


Passed Halfway

by tminuseternity



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, High School Reunion, M/M, Road Trip-ish, Sharing a Bed, you know all the good stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9949133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tminuseternity/pseuds/tminuseternity
Summary: “Ray is attending his high school reunion tonight,” he finally says. “I'm here to help him achieve some form of poetic justice by being the hottest person at the party.”Brad laughs so loudly Nate has to pull the phone away from his ear. He doesn’t know what he was expecting.For the prompt: “It’s my highschool reunion and I need a hot date so I can rub it in the faces of the people who hated me.”





	1. when the lights are low

**Author's Note:**

> http://nerds-are-cool.tumblr.com/post/133544218971/if-youre-struggling-for-au-ideas-take
> 
> This started when I was looking for an AndyEddie modern au prompt but I saw this one and I just--this screamed NateRay to me so I had to do it. What even is my life.  
> So this is still in progress but I'm excited about this fic and I know where it's going and how it will end so be assured, it will be finished, I just can't promise regular updates. 
> 
> Fic title from Don't Be Late by Saga, chapter title from Diamonds Diamonds by Max Webster, u know, in case you're curious.
> 
> Like always, let me know if there's a typo or anything like that, much appreciated, and enjoy!
> 
> Edit to add: This is completely based on the characters portrayed in the series and is completely fiction.

 

There is one individual on the planet who would knock on his door at this ungodly hour and when Nate opens it he's not surprised at all.

 

“Ray,” he says, leaning against the door. He doesn't invite Ray inside and if that seems rude, well, he's not the only asshole tonight. 

 

Ray looks fully caffeinated—a crime at this time of night—and swings his arms nervously like ending up in front of Nate’s door was not his intention at all. The dim glow of the porch lamp lights his features like a Rembrandt portrait and the motions of his arms cast soft shadows against the welcome mat.

 

“Okay, look—” he starts, and Nate knows right away he’s not going to like whatever words are about to fly out of Ray’s mouth, “I was going to call you last week but shit happened and I know you’re probably one second away from slamming the door in my face and—”

 

“Ray,” Nate says, and Ray bites his bottom lip like his mouth has taken on a life of its own and this is the only possible way to stop it. “If you have a point, please make it. Now.”

 

His mouth twists and his eyebrows pull together until he paints a perfect picture of guilt. “Right, I need to ask you for a favour.”

 

“And this couldn't fucking wait until daylight?”

 

Ray looks like he’s remembering Nate’s penchant for putting people in their place, eyeing Nate’s crossed arms warily. Nate wants to tell him that he’s not going to yell at him but at this point he’s not sure which of them will believe it less.

 

“Not exactly. It's kinda time sensitive?”

 

Ray looks at him with something akin to desperation in his eyes then his shoulders drop and he looks to the ground. Defeat makes him hollow, like a building that has fallen into disrepair, and something about it wakes Nate up a little more, makes him pay closer attention. “You know what? Never mind. What the fuck was I thinking, this was a bad idea. Sorry for bothering you, sir.”

 

_ Sir. _

 

Ray hasn’t called him that in over a year, since they last saw other members of Bravo 2 that weren’t Brad. Nate has spent a long time training Ray out of calling him sir. “I know it’s a hard habit to break,” he had said to Ray, “but seeing as you’re determined to be my friend you need to call me Nate.” That had finally seemed to do the trick, and Ray only falls back to old ways when he’s nervous or stressed.

 

So Nate knows not to let this go.

 

“Hold on.” Nate grabs Ray by the wrist as he tries to cut his losses and forcibly drags him across the doorstep. Ray almost trips on the threshold but manages to remain on his feet until Nate pushes him towards the nearest chair, a love seat in the sitting room.

 

“Sit.” Nate locks the door before returning to loom over Ray. He doesn’t think to turn on the light so he can only just see Ray by the glow of the hallway light set on dim. “Now, tell me why you’re here.”

 

Ray shifts in his seat, rubbing the palms of his hands against his jeans. The line of his shoulders is tense, like he’s just examined all of his options and realized he has no choice now but to explain himself.

 

To his credit he gets straight to the point. “I need you to pretend to be my partner for a high school reunion.”

 

_ What. _

 

“What.” Nate closes his eyes briefly at his own lack of eloquence, then instantly forgives himself since it’s  _ three in the fucking morning. _

 

He thinks Ray might be wincing. “Uh… yeah.”

 

It's not what Nate was expecting but at the same time it's not as bad as he was expecting. “At least there’s no dead body.”

 

For what little luminescence there is Nate still makes out the flash of teeth as Ray grins. “Not tonight, homes. But if there was… No, actually yeah you’d still be my first call, since you’re closest. Of course, I’d be praying that you and your upstanding morals don’t rat me out the entire time, but still. I’d call you.”

 

“I’m honoured.” Nate collapses into the space next to Ray on the couch,  lilting slightly into his gravity. “So, why?”

 

He can see the shape of Ray’s features shifting in the dark, like the smile has faded from his face. Nate would regret asking the question if he didn't need to know.

 

“I wasn't going to go but my mom found out about it—well, actually she was the one who told me about it first. She wants me to go so I'll come and visit her. I haven’t seen her since Christmas. And my cousin Isabella is going so she'll be forcing me anyway since she doesn’t want to go alone.”

 

“That didn’t answer my question.”

 

“Maybe you should have asked a better question.”

 

“Why do you need me?” Nate clarifies, more than a hint of annoyance leaking into his tone. Trust Ray to be difficult when  _ he’s  _ the one asking for a favour.

 

Ray sighs, letting his head fall onto the back of the couch. “I fucking hated high school.”

 

That much Nate has known since Iraq. He didn’t personally witness Ray’s outburst on the makeshift football field but he did hear what happened and he knows what was said. He also knows enough about Ray to know that he’s not the type of person who would have thrived in the public education system, though in no way does that mean Ray is an idiot. Ray was an outlier of any high school stereotype, more intelligent than anyone gave him credit for with no recognized output for his talents except running his mouth against opponents in the debate club. Nate knows this because he tends to absorb information about the man sitting next to him without thinking.

 

Ray rolls his head to the side to look at Nate. “I'm not going to sit around and bitch about it but I thought if I walked in with like the hottest most amazing person as my partner it would be fucking awesome. And you pretty much fit the bill.”

 

Nate is glad he left the lights off when he feels a touch of heat rush to his cheeks. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

 

“Flattery gets you fucking everywhere, dude. That and blowjobs.” Nate is eighty percent sure Ray winks. He can almost  _ hear _ it.

 

“I don’t want to know how you know that.”

 

Ray doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, and Nate has to wonder how long it’s going to take for him to ask directly if he’s willing to go along with the scheme. Ray seems content to sit and wait. Maybe he’ll try and convince Nate by refusing to leave unless he says yes. Ray would do something like that.

 

Nate shakes his head minutely in the dark. “I can’t believe you woke me up at 0300 hours to ask me this.”

 

“Ghost hour, dude,” Ray says, like he’s agreeing with Nate. He’s been watching too much Paranormal State. “Hope your house isn’t haunted.”

 

Nate flicks his cheek. “There’s one presence that won’t leave me alone.”

 

Ray laughs and the sound cuts through the dark and warms the room. Nate smiles into the darkness.

 

Then he recalls Ray’s earlier words. “Why is this time sensitive?”

 

The dark shape of Ray’s arm rises as he rubs at the back of his neck. “Oh yeah, um, it's… tomorrow? Well, later today technically. I'm driving to Missouri now.”

 

Nate stares at him. “In the middle of the night?”

 

His shoulders rise and dip. “It's an eight hour drive, man. I wanted to get there by noon. The shindig starts at six. If you say yes I'll have to steal you away for the weekend.”

 

“You’re insane.”

 

“So I’ve been told. Many, many times.”

 

But apparently so is Nate because he’s considering agreeing to the whole ordeal. He needs to get out more.

 

“So, you’re asking me to be your fake boyfriend. For an event. On the  _ day of the event.  _ That involves driving eight hours to get there  _ and _ eight hours to get back. If we survive.” Nate punctuates each phrase with the maximum amount of disbelief he can. Considering his current situation, it’s a lot.

 

“Uh… yeah? I mean like I said I was going to call you earlier. I guess that’s a no, then.”

 

“What's in it for me?”

 

Ray, who seems to have prepared for this question, gestures to himself grandly with both hands. “Quality time with me of course. Ray Person, light of your fucking life.”

 

Nate rolls his eyes. “I'm going to need more incentive than that.”

 

“Rude.” Then Ray sighs dramatically. “Name your price. But could you keep it reasonable? We've all got mouths to feed.”

 

“Really.”

 

“Yeah, my own, dude.”

 

Nate doesn’t have any legitimate reason not to except for it being Ray’s  _ worst  _ idea, which says something. He’s off work for the weekend and he doesn’t have any prior plans.

 

Fuck, he’s  _ actually  _ considering this. Why the fuck is he thinking about saying yes?

 

He does like spending time with Ray despite his cutting remarks. They’ve maintained a steady friendship since leaving the Corps and Nate can tell it’s been good for both of them. Agreeing to play a part in this whole scam would be a chance to learn even more about Ray, and that chance is what tempts him the most. Maybe there are other reasons, maybe he thinks it would be nice to break up the static of routine and maybe it kind of sounds like fun, but his mind is already made up before he explores those reasons in depth.

 

Nate pushes himself off the couch and stands, stretching every limb. “I’m not going to take your money, Ray, but you do owe me. I’m going to pack.”

 

“Holy shit,” Ray breathes, like his mind has been quietly blown.

 

There’s a distinct sort of satisfaction in being able to shock Ray, in making his jaw fall open and his eyes go wide, and although Nate can’t see Ray’s expression clearly right now, what he pictures in his head to fill in the blanks is enough to make him smirk.

  
“I’ll be ready in ten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i always question my sanity when i post a fic and this time is no different


	2. the long straight road ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter has come up pretty quickly since it was already written and I'm on reading week right now so I had lots of time to edit it.  
> Chapter title from drove all night by Celine Dion.  
> Enjoy!

 

When Nate wakes up again the car is stopped and it’s artificially bright. He squints while his eyes adjust to the fluorescent light shining down on the car and surveys his surroundings. His watch reads 5:43. They’re stopped at a Texaco gas station and there’s only one other car in the lot of the attached convenience store. Ray is nowhere in sight.

 

Nate rolls his head to the left and winces at the pain in his neck. Every time he starts to think he’s too old for this (which has happened twice so far) he reminds himself that he’s not that old. His parents took him and his siblings on long road trips when they were older than he is now. They went to different states and different sights across the country, and sometimes across the northern border. He’d always be squished in the middle seat, listening to his brother and sister bicker from both sides until they all fell asleep.

 

The driver’s door opens and Ray climbs inside. He’s carrying the largest sized can of Red Bull commercially available and what looks like at least thirty dollars worth of candy and protein bars in his arms. Ray notices that he's awake and holds out an orange bag. “Fuzzy peach?”

 

“Do you want me to drive for a bit?” Nate asks, ignoring the candy completely.

 

Ray looks surprised at his offer. “You don’t have to.”

 

“You’re surviving on energy drinks and sugar,” Nate points out. “If you crash this car because you’re exhausted I’m going to be pissed. And potentially dead. Do you want that to happen?”

 

“I’ve survived on less, you know,” Ray says, in an offhand way.

 

But this isn’t their AO in a war torn country, and they’re not living off rations of one meal a day.

 

“Ray,” Nate says, in a tone that invites no protest, “you should get some rest.”

 

“Okay. Thanks.” Ray maneuvers his pseudo food around and pulls the lever to open his door.  

 

“Ray?”

 

Ray looks back at him with his body halfway outside. “Yeah?”

 

“Get me a coffee.”

 

“Lazy fuck,” Ray says. He sounds fond. He tosses the car keys onto Nate’s lap and goes back into the station.

 

Nate pushes the emergency blanket he’d been using as a pillow onto the console and gets out of the car. He should’ve brought a pillow but he didn’t think to grab one when he was packing his bag for the weekend. “You wake me up in the middle of the night,” he’d said to Ray, twenty minutes after they left his house, “ask me to be your pretend boyfriend and can’t even provide a pillow so I can sleep in your piece of shit car?”

 

Ray had put a hand to his heart and sighed. “I love it when you bitch, baby.”

 

The sky is clear and dark except for a splotch of pink and orange along the horizon, a taste of the summer sunshine soon to come. A pickup truck rushes by on the stretch of highway twenty meters out, the only thing that indicates they’re connected to civilization at all in this Texaco in the middle of nowhere. They’re neither here nor there and he feels the same but not the same as the way he feels when he’s walking downtown through a crowd of people in suits that look just like his own.

 

When Ray comes back, bringing with him the bitter smell of dark roast coffee, Nate is  still outside the car looking at the foundation of a fledgling sunrise. 

 

“Nate?” Ray says, confused and soft, like he doesn’t want to interrupt. 

 

Nate accepts the cup. “Thanks.” 

 

“These too.” He holds out a bag of Hershey kisses. He’s looking at Nate’s shoes.

 

Nate reaches for the bag haltingly. They’re dark chocolate, his favourite kind. “Thanks,” he says again, bemused.

 

When they’re in the car again Nate takes the lid off the cup and blows it gently before taking a sip. The coffee is shit but Ray tried to improve it with the exact amount of sugar and cream that Nate prefers. He wasn’t even aware Ray knew how he takes his coffee and he didn’t think to tell him. He’d been expecting straight black.

 

“You know how I like my coffee,” he says, more a curious statement than an actual question. Usually when they see each other they're more likely to be drinking beer.

 

Ray makes a flippant gesture and adjusts the blanket, covering himself completely. “We’ve had coffee together before.”

 

Nate decides not to mention that the last time they had coffee together was six months ago in December. He supposes it’s not hard to remember two creams and one sugar, he’s just surprised Ray noticed at all. 

 

He moves to put his coffee in the cup holder and finds a bag of Twizzlers in the way. He tosses them into the back seat. 

 

“Hey, treat my candy like you’d treat me. With love and respect.”

 

“Go to sleep.”

 

Nate puts his drink in the holder and starts the car. He doesn’t know where they are but there’s only one way to go—back onto the highway.

 

Before he leaves the station, Nate opens the Hershey’s bag and lets one kiss melt in his mouth.

 

-

 

Two hours later Nate pulls into the parking lot of a rest stop with a neon red McDonald’s sign. The chocolate is doing nothing to relieve the gnawing in his stomach, and as much as he hates resorting to McDonald's for nutrition it’s more substance than anything currently in the car.

 

Ray remains still beneath the blanket, the only motion coming from the rise and fall of his breathing. The early morning sun casts a pale gold over his relaxed features, washing out his skin in a peaceful mask. Nate doesn’t want to wake him up but he’s not going to let Ray have Twizzlers and Red Bull for breakfast later. No way in hell.

 

Nate shakes his shoulder gently. “Ray, come on, let’s get some breakfast.”

 

Ray groans and turns further towards the window, hiding his face completely. “’M not hungry.”

 

“I don’t care. You’re paying so if you don’t get up I’m taking your wallet.”

 

Ray groans louder and pushes himself off the window with an exaggerated pout that could rival a toddler’s who's been woken in the middle of nap time. “Why do I have to pay?”

 

“Because you’re the who dragged me out here. Come on.”

 

“You didn’t have to come,” he retaliates, rubbing his eyes.

 

“You didn’t have to ask me to, but you did.”

 

Ray grumbles, recognizing he’s the loser of this particular battle. “And now I’m paying for it.”

 

“Exactly,” Nate agrees pleasantly. He said he wouldn’t take Ray’s money, and he won’t, but he’s perfectly happy to let Ray spend money on him. He thinks he’s earned it for putting up with all of this.

 

Ray yawns. He blinks a few times, eyebrow raised like he’s trying to stretch his eyes awake. “Can I take the blanket?”

 

He isn’t sure why Ray is asking his permission but he looks so reluctant to be awake again that Nate indulges him. “Whatever you want, Ray.” 

 

Ray keeps the blanket around his shoulders, shuffling next to Nate as they weave their way across the parking lot and yawning at regular intervals. The toes of his converse that should’ve been trashed years ago peek out from the blanket with each step he takes. Nate worries he’s going to trip on the curb but they make it inside without casualty.

 

There’s no line up in McDonald’s so they go straight to the counter. Nate orders two breakfast meals, foregoing the coffee and getting water instead. Ray leans on Nate the entire time, bundled in his cocoon.

 

“Where’s your wallet?”

 

Ray’s eyes are scrunched closed. “Hmm?”

 

“Don’t tell me you forgot it.”

 

The girl behind the cash register lets out an amused noise, her bubblegum pink lips twisted up. 

 

“No, it’s—” his arm moves beneath the blanket and the wallet appears in the space at his neck above where he’s holding the blanket closed with his other hand. “Here.”

 

Nate pays and returns the wallet to Ray’s awaiting hand after putting the change and the receipt inside. 

 

“Jesus, it’s cold in here,” Ray says, muffled into the sleeve of Nate’s tee shirt. “Good thing I brought a goddamn blanket.” The air conditioning is on blast throughout the entire building, the hum of the system just audible beneath the latest pop songs playing from the speakers. Nate isn’t cold but he knows Ray has the uncanny ability to find anywhere cold, and he thinks of all the times he saw Ray wearing his hoodie at Camp Matilda.

 

Ray shivers so Nate does the sensible thing and wraps his arm around Ray’s shoulders. They stand together as they wait for their breakfast, Ray curled into Nate’s chest leaning on his collarbone. His fists press into Nate’s ribs and his hair brushes under Nate’s jaw. 

 

“You need a haircut,” Nate says, mostly to distract himself from the way he wants to rest his head on top of Ray’s. He’s needed a haircut since April and he still hasn’t done it yet. And he talks about Nate being lazy.

 

“Who are you, my mom? She’s gonna say the same thing.”

 

The girl comes back a few minutes later and sets their food on a plastic tray. She takes one look at them and smiles softly. “Here you go.”

 

“Thanks.” Nate untangles himself from Ray and takes their breakfast. He nudges Ray with his elbow. “Pick a table.”

 

The sitting area is mostly empty. A group of guys Nate assumes are truckers sit at two tables that have been pulled together, drinking coffee and talking. In one booth there’s a young family, the parents staring into their food looking disillusioned. One toddler has fallen asleep into his ketchup and the other stares wistfully at Ray’s blanket as they pass.

 

Ray slides into the last booth next to the windows and Nate sits across from him, setting the tray down between them. Ray digs into his food first, messy as ever, and the way he eats with his shoulders hunched and his arms tucked in front of him to keep the blanket from falling down makes Nate pause in the middle of unwrapping his own sandwich. 

 

Ray notices he’s not eating and looks up, crumbs all over his face. “Whahf?” he asks, muffled by the third of his sandwich that’s crammed in his mouth.

 

Nate grins and imitates his posture. “You look like a T-Rex.”

 

Ray puts down his sandwich and pulls the blanket off his shoulders with a glare, but his puffed out cheeks full of food ruin the effect and Nate laughs. He laughs until his eyes water, and it’s too loud for this sleepy fast food restaurant, but every time he looks at Ray the laughter bubbles up from his throat again, renewed in strength. 

 

“Stop laughing at me,” Ray complains after swallowing his mouthful. But when Nate looks up, the laughter mostly under control, he has a tiny smile on his face. 

 

It takes longer to force the grin off his face, but when Nate finally starts to eat he feels lighter than he did when he walked in. 

 

They fall into a companionable quiet, the only sounds coming from the wrappers and cups and low melodies emanating from the speakers above them. Ray finishes his food first and takes a long swig of water. It splashes out of the sides of the cup and pours down his chin in rivers, dripping onto his lap. Nate hands him a napkin. 

 

After he wipes his hands and mouth, Ray crosses his arms over his chest. There are goosebumps all over his skin.

 

“You should put the blanket on again if you’re cold.”

 

Ray looks at him with suspicious eyes. Nate supposes he deserves that.

 

“I won’t laugh,” he promises. 

 

Ray seems to take his word for it and wraps the blanket around himself. He drinks the rest of his water and watches a fly moving in erratic circles on the window. 

 

“Did you go to your high school reunion?” he asks out of the blue, spinning the bottom of his empty cup against the table.

 

Nate swallows his last bite. “No.”

 

He expects Ray’s next question to be “Why not?” but instead he gets, “Did you want to?”

 

Nate folds an unused napkin absently as he thinks about it. He knew that he couldn’t go as soon as he read about it in a letter from his mother so he didn’t have time to be disappointed about missing it. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I was deployed. I didn’t have to think about whether I wanted to go or not.”

 

He supposes it might have been nice. He had some good friends in high school, people he might have liked to catch up with, but he’s not one to reminisce. He doesn’t think of high school as the  _ good old days  _ and he doesn’t like to look backwards. 

 

Ray’s not staring out the window anymore. He’s watching Nate, so Nate watches him in return. “Are you gonna go to your next one?”

 

Nate flings the napkin at him without looking away from his eyes. It doesn’t even hit him, just falls to the table halfway between them. “I’m not old enough for the twentieth yet.”

 

Ray grins. “I didn’t say that.”

 

“You implied.” Nate finishes the water in his cup and starts compiling their garbage onto the tray.

 

“I would do no such thing,” Ray claims, attempting to look sincere but the amusement in his eyes gives him away.

 

Nate slides out of the seat. “Get up, Ray. We’re oscar mike.”

 

Ray’s smile doesn’t dull and it’s hard to look away from. “Three more hours to go,” he says brightly.

 

Ray takes the driver’s seat this time, looking much more energized than when they arrived at the rest stop. He’s relinquished his blanket to Nate, who really doesn’t need it but still says, “Thanks.” After they’ve been on the road for a few minutes, Ray turns the radio volume down.

 

“Nate? I’m glad you’re coming with me.” His eyes are on the road but Nate can tell he means it, and for a moment he’s not sure how to respond. He’s not used to such raw honesty coming from Ray.

 

“If that’s code for thank you, then you’re welcome.”

  
The answer seems to please him, so Nate turns the radio back up and looks out to the road ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont really know much about hs reunions because i havent been to one yet (and i think they're more of an American thing?) so i'm assuming they're every ten years


	3. orange popsicles and lemonade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who had a snow day today. That's right, me. This chapter is the size of 1 and 2 combined so I hope it was worth the wait and please let me know if you like it, I struggled so much with this chapter. I added a tentative chapter total for the fic but of course that may change.  
> Random chapter title is random, but it is from a song called summer of love, so take that as you will.  
> Feel free to point out any grammar/spelling mistakes as always, and enjoy!

 

“Sir,” Brad greets, cutting clear through the line above the sounds of buzzing cicadas and chirping birds in the backyard. His business as usual tone is a stark contrast to the summer laziness Nate has allowed himself to fall into, lying in the shade of a covered swing on the deck with a book in his hands. “Do I need to set up a rescue operation?”

 

The mental image of Brad going into full recon mode to save him from Ray’s clutches makes him smile. He has no doubt Brad would come to rescue him if need be, but he knows right now his old team leader is just looking for intel.

 

“A rescue operation won’t be necessary, Brad. I’m in Missouri of my own accord.”

 

They had rolled through the tired town of Nevada around ten, ahead of schedule because Ray had cheerfully ignored all speed limit postings on the highway. Nate had thought they were going to be pulled over more than once but it never happened.

 

Ray’s mother’s house is a quaint two storey place at the south end of the town, and it looked just as welcoming at first glance as she had been despite her surprise that Ray had brought a guest. 

 

“I was expecting to meet my niece’s boyfriend,” she said, smiling kindly at Nate, “not my son’s.”

 

Nate had opened his mouth to tell her she had the wrong idea but no words would come out. What stopped him was the tone of her voice, the simplicity in her assumption. She had taken one look at the two of them and thought without any hesitation that they were in a relationship. A part of him knew it was logical—her son shows up with another man for a high school reunion, of course she’s going to believe they’re together—but mostly it caused questions to form in his head. Did they look like a couple? Did they act like one?

 

Ray had quickly explained what the plan for the weekend was when Nate didn’t respond and he cleared away one concern in Nate’s mind—that they don’t have to keep up the pretense for Ray’s family—but the rest of them stayed.

 

“May I ask why, sir?” Brad says, drawing him back to the present conversation. 

 

Nate ignores the reflex to remind Brad about the title he doesn’t want to be called anymore. When it comes to Brad, who’s still on active duty, he tends to let it slide.

 

“What did Ray tell you?”

 

“Jack shit,” Brad says bluntly. “He said he was going to Nevada and he was going to call me when he got there. When Isabella said you were there I figured that had something to do with why he was so secretive.”

 

“I have no doubt about that,” Nate says, but he doesn’t elucidate on the situation. Is there a reason why Ray kept the scheme secret from his best friend, or was he simply embarrassed about it? As soon as the thought crosses Nate’s mind, he dismisses it. He doesn’t think he’s  _ ever  _ seen Ray embarrassed, and when it comes to Brad, Ray would just take whatever abuse he’s dealt with a smile on his face.

 

“Please enlighten me, sir, so I can appropriately torture him later.”

 

“Ray is attending his high school reunion tonight,” he finally says. “I'm here to help him achieve some form of poetic justice by being the hottest person at the party.”

 

Brad laughs so loudly Nate has to pull the phone away from his ear. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Next to the swing he’s lying on Isabella is chuckling, perched on a patio chair with her sketchbook resting on her thighs.

 

She was the only one Ray told about the scheme prior to their arrival and had greeted Nate with, “So you must be the bogus boyfriend.” Initially Nate thought she looked nothing like her relatives, but the more Nate talked to her, the more he noticed the similarities between her and Ray. She talks with her hands as though they’re illustrating her words like a picture book, the same way Ray does. Her features are sharp, her jaw more angular than Ray’s, but she has dimples that mirror Ray’s own. 

 

“Maybe I should feel objectified,” Nate muses, as much to Brad as to Isabella and they both laugh more, out of sync in his ears like the same song playing from two different rooms.

 

“You probably should,” Brad advises, and if there’s one thing Nate trusts it’s Brad’s advice. “Jesus  _ fucking  _ Christ. Only Ray.”

 

“Only Ray,” Nate echoes. Not for the first time since they left he wonders what Ray must have gone through in high school to make him so desperate to shine brighter than his fellow students all these years later. He could have lied and said he got a high paying job. Hell, he could have told only the truth. Serving his country in two tours is no small accomplishment, especially considering what Bravo Two endured as a unit. 

 

But those things aren’t provable and maybe that’s what Ray was looking for. Maybe that’s what Nate is—evidence. Having a partner is the only thing that can be verified within the confines of one social event, no matter how much of a lie their relationship will be. 

 

“Still, sir. You agreed to do this for Ray.” It sounds like a plain statement of fact but Nate recognizes it for the inquiry that it is.

 

“I did,” he says, sidestepping the question neatly. He’s not even sure if he can explain why Ray was able to entice him into a spur of the moment road trip and a pretend relationship after waking him up at 0300 hours. Brad doesn’t even know about the three a.m. part and Nate fears he would lose all of Brad’s respect if he did.

 

Brad doesn’t come right out and ask him why, just hums at his response like it’s an answer in itself. Then he sighs. “Put on the pea-brained whiskey tango hick,” he says, sounding resigned. His mock reluctance to talk to Ray would be infinitely more believable if he hadn’t called to make sure Ray wasn’t lying in a ditch on the side of the highway. It lends a fair amount credibility to a nickname he’s heard Ray use in reference to his best friend— _ my other mother.  _

 

“Sure. He’s in the garden with his mom.” Nate stands up from the swing, narrowly missing the cat’s tail when he plants his feet on the wooden beams. It’s a fat and fluffy creature the colour of an orange creamsicle and Nate has been warned not to pet it multiple times. 

 

“Tell Carol I said hello. And sir?”

 

“Yes?” Nate says, crossing the lawn to the back fence lining the property where the two are sitting in the grass.

 

“Good luck.”

 

Nate doesn’t know what to say to that. It hadn’t occurred to him that he may need luck, that they might need it.

 

“You’re not doing it right, Ray,” Carol is saying as she uses the back of a spade to level out a section of soil.

 

“How is that possible? We’re shoving things in dirt.”

 

“You have to space them out more, honey…”

 

They look up at the sound of Nate’s feet swishing through blades of grass and squint into the sunlight.

 

“Come to get your hands dirty?” Ray asks. He’s flushed from exertion and the sun beating down on them, sweat dotting his face and staining his tee shirt.

 

“No.” He holds out the phone. “Forget to give someone a call?”

 

Watching Ray’s expression morph from confusion to  _ oh shit  _ in the span of two seconds is a fascinating thing. He pulls off his gloves and takes the receiver, his warm skin sliding over Nate’s fingertips. “Bradley!”

 

“Brad says hi,” he tells Carol, and she smiles at his words. From what Nate knows of her so far, he can easily picture her getting along with Brad purely out of their shared exasperation for Ray.

 

Nate returns to the deck and picks up his book before relaxing back into the cushions of the swing. The book is an old Sidney Sheldon paperback he brought with him, the spine already cracked and the cover barely holding on, but he loves the thriller more each time he reads it.

 

“I’m surprised Ray didn’t tell Brad about his  _ grand plan _ ,” Isabella says with a wiggle of her fingers, like the whole thing is cloak and dagger. “Doesn’t he tell Brad everything?”

 

Nate rests the open book on his chest. “I think it would be more accurate to say he knows he can’t hide anything from Brad, so he doesn’t try. Usually,” he amends.

 

Isabella grins, the reflection of the world around her shining crystal clear in her aviators. “That must be what it is.”

 

-

 

They spend the rest of the afternoon outside until five p.m. rolls around and they start to get ready for the reunion. 

 

“You can get changed in here.” Ray opens a door on the second level of the house, revealing a small bedroom. There are no curtains hanging above the open window and the daylight pouring in highlights the scuffs and damage spots along the walls. The only three things in the room are a twin sized bed, a dresser with an attached mirror, and a framed Daytona 500 poster from the year 1989 hanging on an otherwise empty blue wall.

 

Next to him Ray laughs, but Nate has no idea what he finds so amusing. 

 

“You don’t need to be worried about your innocence,” he says, and brushes past Nate to lay back on the mattress. “We’re not sharing this bed, we’re taking the guest room. Mama just has to wash the sheets and Izzy’s gonna sleep here tonight. This was my room.”

 

Nate sets his duffel bag on the floor and lies next to Ray, who shifts to give him space after a second of surprise. Nate’s feet hang over the end of the bed, ankles hooked on the bed frame. “I wouldn’t have said I was okay with sharing a bed if I wasn’t.”

 

“Yes you would. You’re too polite to make me sleep on the couch.”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Nate counters, even though Ray is right. He’d feel like an asshole if  he forced Ray to sleep on the couch in his own childhood home, but either way the thought of sharing a bed with Ray doesn’t make him uncomfortable. “I’m okay with it.”

 

Ray searches his face for any hint of a lie but there’s nothing to find. He has smudges of dirt on his cheeks, and the smell of soil clings to him the same way it hangs in the air after a burst of spring rain.

 

“Why didn’t you tell Brad about the reunion?” 

 

If Ray is startled by the question he doesn’t show it. “I thought he’d tell me not to go. And that this idea—” he gestures between them with a loose wave of his hand—“was stupid, which is exactly what he told me on the phone.”

 

“He’s not wrong,” Nate points out. They both know that already.

 

“Yeah, I know.” He looks like he’s about to say more then decides against it. He turns on his side so he’s facing Nate, tucking his hands under his chin. It brings him a breath away from Nate’s shoulder, his bent knees touching Nate’s leg. “I used to have a race car bed when I was a kid.”

 

By now Nate is more than used to Ray’s mind derailing into wildly different directions so he goes along with the change in subject. “Why am I not surprised.”

 

“Dude, those things were the shit. I cried when we had to throw it out because I got too big. I asked my mom if she could shrink me so I could keep it.”

 

Nate smiles at the image his words create. It’s not hard to imagine what Ray looked like when he was younger since there are pictures of him all over the house. Some of his school photos are on the fridge, held up by souvenir magnets from every state, and pictures of him and Isabella with their other cousins sit in frames all over the house. 

 

The faraway look in Ray’s eyes fade as he remembers what they’re supposed to be doing. “We need to get ready. Go, you get first dibs on the shower. There are clean towels in the bathroom.”

 

“How kind, but I’m not the one that smells like fertilizer.”

 

Ray shoves his arm and it doesn’t do much but he gets the hint and stands up. “Go, I have to wait anyway.”

 

“For what?” Nate asks. He unzips his bag and rummages through it for his toiletries.

 

“My mom’s looking for the hair trimmer.” His face twists in displeasure and Nate can’t help but laugh.

 

Ray points at the door.

 

“I’m going.”

 

-

 

Nate is towelling his hair dry when Ray walks in. His hair is short and neat and both of their ironed dress shirts are dangling from his fingers.

 

“Oh shit, sorry, didn’t realize you were… you know,” he says, waving his free hand at Nate’s body as he goes past Nate to the bed. He’s studiously not looking at Nate.

 

“I have boxers on, relax,” Nate says, watching Ray closely. He seems flustered, laying both shirts on the comforter with hands that don’t stop twitching, and it doesn’t make sense for someone who has seen a lot worse than a guy in his underwear. 

 

“You know, I think the last time my mom ironed something for me was prom night,” he says, still facing away from Nate. “I’m feeling serious deja vu or some shit.”

 

Nate raises his eyebrows. “You went to prom?” 

 

“Yeah, for the same reason I’m going to this stupid reunion—Isabella pressured me into it.” 

 

“What was it like?” Nate has no doubt that Ray’s prom must vastly contrast his own, not only because of the differences of their time in high school but also because of where they grew up. His own prom had been enjoyable enough. He didn’t have a hard time getting a date, he chipped in for the limo and he slept with his date at his friend’s party afterwards. 

 

“Awful,” Ray answers. He finally turns around and sits on the edge of the mattress. He leans back on his hands, looking half there and half lost in the memories. “The school couldn’t afford to rent the banquet hall so it was in the gym, just like this reunion. I ditched early and got high in the park with a buddy from the debate team.” Ray meets his eyes and smirks. “He gave me my first blowjob right there on the slide.”

 

“At least there was a happy ending.”

 

Ray laughs once, a sharp sound in the relative silence of the room. “Yeah.” Talking appears to have relaxed him though his fingers still tap the comforter in sporadic bursts.

 

Nate drops his towel on the dresser and picks up his shirt from the bed next to Ray, a blue button-up that a drunk woman once told him made his eyes look like magic. Nate had smiled, thanked her, and called her a cab.

 

Ray watches him put it on, his eyes trailing the blue fabric in Nate’s hands. 

 

“You need to get ready,” Nate reminds him.

 

Ray blinks and seems to snap back into reality. “Right. Shower. I’ll be back in five.”

 

He’s true to his word, re-entering the room soon after Nate has finished getting dressed with a towel around his waist and his clothes clutched in one hand. Nate catches a brief glimpse of black ink on his skin and then looks away when Ray lets go of the towel.

 

“Should I wear a tie?” Nate asks, eyes on the window. He brought one just in case but the dress code is only semi-formal.

 

“Dude. This is  _ Missouri.  _ There’s gonna be twenty people wearing jeans.”

 

“So, no.”

 

“Unless you want to. It’s a free country.”

 

“I can live without it.”

 

Nate turns his head when Ray comes closer to take his shirt off the bed. His pants are undone and his hair still looks damp. He smells clean, like Axe body wash and mint toothpaste. 

 

Ray’s eyes flicker over Nate, head to toe. “You look great.”

 

“It’s what I’m here for.”

 

“Well... yeah.” Ray stands in front of the mirror and buttons his shirt, starting from the bottom up. His shirt is an emerald green that complements Nate’s own blue one, though how that happened he has no idea. He was barely awake when he packed his clothes and he never gave a thought to what Ray was going to wear.

 

Ray’s hands stumble on a button and he pauses, staring at the reflection of his hands.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“I—I just—” He rubs his hands over his face and shakes his head between his hands. “I don’t know.”

 

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Nate says, and he gets up from the bed to stand on Ray’s right side.

 

“No, I think it just hit me that I’m really going back there. This is a terrible idea, why did you let me do this?”

 

“We don’t have to go.” They would both be happier if they stayed here, even if the reunion is the only reason Nate's here in the first place. They could have a campfire in the backyard and crack open a few beers. They could turn off all the lights and gaze up at the stars and pretend they know constellations other than the Big Dipper.

 

“Izzy would kill me,” Ray mutters, shattering the idea forming in Nate’s mind. His hands move back to the buttons and drop again. “Do you think they’ll know we’re not really together?”

 

“You tell me, you knew these people.”

 

Ray thinks with a frown then shrugs, his hands flying helplessly into the air. “I don’t know,” he says again.

 

“It’ll be okay. All we have to do is this,” he says, and rests his hand on Ray’s back, just above the loose waistband of his pants. Ray tenses under his palm but he doesn’t voice the confusion clear on his face. “And this.”

 

Nate considers it an  experiment when he leans into Ray’s space and kisses the curve of his cheekbone, but the way his heart stutters when his lips touch Ray’s skin surprises him. He drifts away slower than he intended to, letting out a shallow breath. His hand is still touching Ray so he lets it fall.

 

Ray swallows. He’s staring into the mirror with wide eyes. “What was that for?”

 

Nate has already come up with his excuse. “Practice,” he says smoothly, but that’s not why. He did it because he wanted to, because he wanted to see how Ray would react. He’s not sure where the sudden desire came from. Maybe he just wanted to distract Ray, pull his mind away from his worries. Judging by the stunned expression on Ray’s face, he was successful in that regard.

 

He thinks Ray would see the lie all over his face if he was looking at Nate, but his blank eyes are still frozen on the mirror. Nate has lied to superiors with less anxiousness so why his heartbeat won’t slow down now is a mystery.

 

Ray’s head jerks back in a delayed reaction and his eyebrows dance into a frown.

 

“Makes sense, I guess.” His eyes break away from the reflection and turn to Nate. They’re lit up with amusement and something less refined, more wild, and Nate’s about to question it when he speaks. “In that case, do you wanna make out?”

 

He’s teasing Nate. 

 

Nate gives him a flat look but he can feel the expression break on his face when  the corner of his mouth twitches. 

 

Ray notices. He puckers his lips in a way that’s almost cartoonish and that’s all it takes for Nate to break into a grin, effectively dispelling any tension that lingers from the moment. His heart slows to a calmer pace and he feels like he got away with something.

 

Nate sits on the edge of the dresser in front of Ray and starts fixing Ray’s buttons from the collar down. The two sides don’t match, four buttons remaining on the left and three holes on the right. 

 

“Even if I wanted to,” he says, focussing on the emerald buttons, “we don’t have time.” 

 

Ray checks his watch. “We have ten minutes,” he says, an argument he’s not trying particularly hard to defend. He wasn’t serious so Nate’s reaction must be along the lines of what he expected.

 

“What are we going to tell people?” 

 

Ray blinks. “What?”

 

“If someone asks how we got together,” Nate says. He leaves the last button undone and straightens Ray’s collar. “Or how we met.”

 

“Just say we started dating a few years after we left the marines,” Ray says, and he lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “We don’t have to lie about our entire lives, Nate. Just one part.”

 

Nate takes his hands off Ray’s shirt and nods. For the most he thinks it will be fine. Even if people have suspicions about the verity of their relationship no one would comment on it. Being in a fake relationship just isn’t something that can be easily accused when all relationships look different, and though this event may be in a high school they’re not teenagers anymore. No one is going to demand evidence of their relationship. As long as they keep their stories straight and look relatively happy no one’s going to say a damn thing.

 

“This colour looks good on you.”

 

“Thank you. Are you gonna zip up my fly too?” The same teasing light is back in his eyes and this time Nate holds a straight face.

 

“I think you can manage on your own. Oh, and—” he rubs Ray’s hair, and Ray slaps his hand away—“your hair is much better now.” He picks up his dress shoes from the carpet and leaves the bedroom.

 

Downstairs Isabella is putting on a pair of heels by the front door. She’s in a flowing blue dress with her hair in a neat bun. She looks up when he sits next to her on the bench to put on his shoes. 

 

“Damn, you look great,” she says, sounding upset. “Why couldn’t you be my fake boyfriend?”

 

“You don’t need one, you’ll turn enough heads on your own.”

 

She turns pink and punches him in the arm. “Stop.”

 

Carol comes down the hallway towards them with a camera and Isabella groans. “It’s not actually prom, Aunt C.” She stands and prepares for pictures anyway.

 

“I know, but you look lovely, honey. Can’t I have some pictures of my gorgeous niece? Nate, you look wonderful but I won’t force you to take pictures. And where is Ray? You three need to get going.”

 

“Upstairs,” Nate says, but when he looks to the staircase automatically he sees that he’s wrong. Ray is coming down, shoes in hand. He doesn’t look excited but he looks more ready than he did earlier, and it seems like Nate’s turn to be reminded of prom, his breath taken away by someone beautiful walking down the stairs. 

 

Ray takes the space where Isabella was sitting next to Nate on the bench. He put on some cologne and combed his hair before coming down. “What?” he says, seeing Nate’s eyes on him. He sounds oddly bashful.

 

“Nothing,” Nate says, choosing not to voice the doubt in mind that of the two of them,  _ Nate  _ is supposed to be the one people look at. It’s hard to imagine that anyone else could look at Ray right now and think he’s the unworthy one for having Nate.

 

“Is there going to be alcohol at this reunion?” Carol asks.

 

“I hope so,” Ray says as he ties up his laces.

 

“Not it,” Isabella declares, and Ray parrots her words. They look at Nate.

 

“I’m designated driver?” Nate guesses, and they nod. 

 

“We’ll need the booze more than you,” Ray says. "If there is any."

 

Nate can’t argue with that. “Alright. Are we ready to go?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

They head out into the warm evening with Carol on their heels. “Have fun!” She calls from the porch, waving them off.

 

They take Ray’s car since it’s parked on the end of the driveway. The short ride is quiet, eight minutes of nerves charging the air like electricity. Most of it comes from Ray, stony behind the steering wheel with his finger tapping the top, but when Nate looks at the back seat he sees Isabella hasn’t escaped anxiety’s clutches either. She bites her thumbnail and smooths her already perfect hair.

 

The parking lot is full when they reach the school so Ray parks on the street behind a silver Lexus. His eyes narrow at the car like he’s trying to figure out who it belongs to based on its generic license plate alone. 

 

The school is small, only one floor whereas Nate’s high school had two, and it looks like it hasn’t been renovated since the eighties. There’s a poster on the front door advertising the event that has too many exclamation points on it, boasting an open bar and claiming attendees will have  _ the night of your life.  _ Nate doubts that but he’s here, so.

 

They stop a few feet from the door so Nate opens it and gestures for them to enter. “It’ll be fun,” he says, hoping it doesn’t turn out to be a lie.

 

Isabella looks optimistic once again but Ray clearly doesn’t believe him one bit. He takes a deep breath and follows his cousin inside with Nate right behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it? ;)  
> Things are haaaaaappening


	4. and i can't get the words out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks! Nice long chapter here for ya, almost 5k! I hope you enjoy!  
> *me going through my playlist of songs for this fic* today's chapter title will be from...everywhere by fleetwood mac  
> Huge thank you to astreetsussserenade on tumblr for helping me come up with Ray's yearbook quote, I hope you like how I've used it :)  
> **Warning for one homophobic slur in this chapter.**

 

Walking into the school is a surreal dream and unbidden memories come to Nate despite it not being his high school. The silver streamers make him think of Spring Formal and the shiny sequins on the dress his date had worn. Bundles of white balloons remind him of a birthday party in senior year when his friend was so drunk he made out with a balloon that popped in his face. Everywhere Nate looks there’s something that takes his mind years back. The tiles, the bulletin boards, the lockers—everything makes him feel both incredibly  _ young  _ and unbelievably  _ old  _ and it’s almost enough to make him dizzy.

 

Ray looks like he’s feeling the exact same sense of strange that Nate is multiplied exponentially. His eyes scan the foyer with trepidation, from the poster boards of pictures to the group of people laughing next to the name tags to the banner over the gym doors welcoming back the class of 1998. 

 

“Can we leave?”

 

Isabella takes his elbow and tugs him towards the name tags. “We just got here.” She’s writing her name on a sticker with a sharpie when two women screech her name.

 

“Isabella!”

 

“Kelly, Emma!” There’s no trace of any nerves left as she hugs her old friends.

 

“You look great, Bella!”

 

The other woman eyes Nate with something akin to hunger. “Is this your boyfriend?”

 

Ray looks up from the sticker he’s writing on. “Actually, he’s mine.”

 

If Nate was sixteen he might call the feeling in his stomach butterflies at hearing Ray call him  _ mine.   _

 

Both women are stunned, glancing between the two of them.

 

“Ladies, you remember my cousin, right?” Isabella sounds like she’s enjoying their reactions as much as Ray looks like he is. 

 

The woman who asked the question says, “Josh?” There’s no small amount of disdain in her voice and a part of Nate wants to pull Ray behind him.

 

“Were you the one that slept with Ms. Lane?” The other one asks, oblivious to any animosity.

 

Ray’s  _ what the fuck  _ expression is comical.

 

The woman in the black dress elbows her. “He’s gay, Emma.”

 

“One of the seniors slept with Ms. Lane?” Isabella asks, looking morbidly curious.

 

“After grad, I think…”

 

Ray sticks the tag to the table. It reads  _ table _ . “Well, it sure as fuck wasn’t me.”

 

“Come on, babe,” Nate says, taking Ray’s hand, “let’s look at the yearbooks.” He can see Ray’s discomfort growing by the second.

 

Ray squeezes his hand gratefully and they weave their way through people to the table with yearbooks from 1998. The covers say  _ Reach for the Stars  _ in white lettering on top of a field of white dots _.  _

 

“Looks like they made this with Paint, doesn’t it?” Ray says, flipping one open.

 

“A little bit.”

 

Ray stops on the seniors page. There are few enough that they all fit on a two page spread, rows of faces in caps and gowns with quotes underneath each picture. His photo is right after Isabella’s, labelled  _ Joshua Person _ . He looks like he was caught by surprise when the flash went off, an uncertain grimace on his face.

 

“In my defence that was the hairstyle back then,” he says, seeing Nate’ smirk.

 

“Did you go by Josh in high school?” Nate wants to spit out the taste the name leaves in his mouth. There’s an inherent feeling of  _ wrong  _ when he says it.

 

“Not really. I’ve used my middle name since I was seven but these fuckers never bothered to remember that. Only my friends called me Ray.”

 

Isabella’s quote is what Ray would call some  _ happy day horse shit _ about hopes and dreams but Ray’s is different, neither a joke nor a bare-faced statement about his experience.

 

_ ‘They want to know what I do with my time. I tell them that sometimes I just sit and think. But I won’t tell them what. I’ve got them running.’ _

 

“I thought it was a good idea at the time,” Ray says, his finger tapping the page just below his quote. “It’s from Fahrenheit 451. We had to read it in tenth grade.”

 

“I like it.” It says something about Ray that his last words on high school are from a book about burning books but the quote by itself speaks a deeper meaning of how he felt about the people he had shared the time with. At first glance it seems incongruous with the photo above it but the more Nate considers it the more it seems to suit the expression on Ray’s eighteen year old face.

 

Ray lifts his eyes from the yearbook to look at Nate. “Really?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

The clicking of heels coming towards them makes them both turn before Nate can say anymore. 

 

“Kelly hasn’t changed a bit,” Isabella says, rolling her eyes and miming a yapping mouth with her hand. “Still bitch bitch bitch about everything.” Stuck to her other hand is a tag which she slaps on Ray’s shirt.

 

_ Josh Ray _ it says, the first word on top of the second. Ray immediately moves to peel it off.

 

“No, leave it,” Isabella pleads, pulling his hands away.

 

“Why? Either they remember my name or they don’t.”

 

Isabella bites her bottom lip with a slight crease between her eyes, a frown that matches Nate’s own. His words are too casual, a statement of an underlying truth he’s already accepted, had probably accepted in high school. His peers don’t give a fuck about him and that hasn’t changed.

 

“It’s just a sticker,” Isabella says, though her level of enthusiasm isn’t the same as it was when she stuck the tag to his shirt. “It won’t kill you to keep it on.”

 

“ _ Welcome class of ninety eight! _ ” A voice booms from inside the gymnasium. Cheers follows. 

 

“Come on, it’s starting.”

 

Nate feels all of eighteen again inside the gym full of more tacky decorations. The set up is underwhelming, some tables on the right and the DJ on the left, as much space as possible left between them for dancing. The open bar advertised on the poster is just a table of drinks at the back next to the food. Nate guesses there are about seventy people mingling around the small gym and sees that Ray was right—there are a fair amount of people wearing jeans.

 

“They went all out,” Ray says, his voice flatter than the floor.

 

“I can’t believe it’s been ten years,” the speaker says. She’s standing next to the DJ with a microphone in her hand. “Time flies, doesn’t it?”

 

Someone boos and laughter ripples through the crowd. 

 

“I know, right? We’re all getting older.” She points to someone with a stern look. “Stop laughing, Mr. Brenner. Not all of us can rock the grey. Anyway, I’m glad you could all make it out tonight, we’re going to have a great time. Make sure to check out the photo booth—it was expensive, please use it—and remember to grab a gift from back here before you leave. We’ll have a few words from our valedictorian—”

 

Cheers and whoops rise from the crowd but both Ray and Isabella look apprehensive.

 

“You guys remember him, that’s good. That’ll be in a bit so until then let’s party!”

 

The DJ takes that as his cue to pump up the music and everyone around them begins to dance, including Isabella. Nate follows her lead but Ray stands immutable as an island in the middle of a storm. 

 

“Dance, idiot!”

 

Ray is mock offended at Nate’s words but they have the intended effect and Ray does as he’s told. It takes more than a few songs in the nineties nostalgia mix for him to really loosen up and Nate does what he can to speed up the process with some truly ridiculous moves. It’s worth it to see Ray laughing.

 

When a slower song comes on Nate takes his hands and pulls him close to his chest. He recognizes the melody but he couldn’t recall the name if his life depended on it.

 

“I hate this song,” Ray says, but he’s pliant enough to keep his hands where Nate puts them, one on his shoulder and one in his own hand, and sway along. 

 

“So do I,” Nate says, though his heart isn’t in it. The song presents him with the opportunity to do this so he doesn’t hate it so much right now. 

 

The not-butterflies are back, flying around in his chest and making him feel like he would float off the floor if he wasn’t tethered to Ray. He likes having Ray in his arms, his hand resting on Ray’s back pressing lightly against his spine. The disco ball above them scatters spots of light over Ray’s skin in a kaleidoscope of rich colour, each one roaming his face as it slowly spins. A circle of red is traveling over his parted lips when Nate leans in. Their foreheads rest against each other. He can feel Ray’s breath on his lips. 

 

“Nate.” The desperate word is barely audible, a whisper he feels more than hears. Ray’s hand squeezes his compulsively. 

 

The song changes.

 

It hurts to let go of Ray but the lights are brighter, the song is faster, and they're too close. 

 

Ray releases a breath, his shoulders slumping. He’s standing still in the waves of dancing people.“You wanna grab some food?”

 

Nate nods and leads him out of the crowd of dancing people by the hand. He doesn’t feel like dancing anymore either. It’s a bit quieter near the food but neither of them start a conversation. They both fill plates and cups, punch for Ray and sparkling juice for Nate, and they’re looking for a table when a woman leaps from her seat to hug Ray. 

 

“Ray, it’s so good to see you! I didn’t think you’d be here.” 

 

Ray hugs her back best as he can with his hands full. “Yeah, neither did I.”

 

The woman,  _ Winnie _ her name tag says, pulls back and gives him a knowing look. “Isabella?”

 

“Isabella,” Ray confirms.

 

“Well I’m glad she did whatever she did to get you here. Come sit with us, it’ll be our own little chess club reunion.”

 

“Chess club?” Nate asks as they follow her.

 

“Fuck off.”

 

At the table three people are chatting, two men and one woman who all look up when they approach. Only one of the guys is wearing a name tag which says  _ Jacob _ . 

 

“Look who I found!”

 

“Ray, my man!” Jacob stands and gives Ray a sort of slap handshake across the table.

 

“Haven’t seen your ugly mug for a while,” Ray says easily. His posture is relaxed enough now that it’s hard to picture him as nervous as he was when they arrived.

 

“Could say the same thing. Who’s your friend?”

 

Ray steels himself. “This is my boyfriend, Nate. Nate, this is Winnie and Jake, my chess club victims.”

 

They both laugh and Nate sees no hint of discomfort or disgust in their faces. 

 

“I distinctly remember kicking your ass,” Winnie says, “but I’m willing to let it slide. It’s good to meet you, Nate.”

 

“Nice to meet you both. I was under the impression Ray had no friends in high school.” He says it lightly enough to let Ray know he’s teasing. 

 

By the look on his face Ray is thinking of dumping his drink over Nate’s head.

 

“He had us,” Jake says, raising his cup as if in toast and taking a swig. 

 

Ray looks a quiet kind of happy, a tiny smile aimed at the table. As the three friends catch up they pull Ray out from behind his guard and his laughter comes easy as stories and memories resurface. Nate and the table’s other occupants, Winnie’s husband and Jake’s girlfriend, mostly remain quiet as they chat, only responding to questions or pitching an occasional joke. He’s content to watch Ray’s entire notion of what the reunion would have in store for him dissolve as he talks freely to the few people he actually liked. 

 

“...and she slapped him across the face,” Winnie is recounting a story from their prom night. “It was amazing.”

 

Jake has tears in his eyes. “I would’ve paid to see that,” he says between breathless laughs. “Too bad we skipped out early, huh, Ray?”

 

Nate draws a sharp breath and he looks at Ray’s old friend in a new light. This is the guy Ray had one of his first sexual experiences with, though by the way he’s talking he doesn’t remember it at all.

 

“Nah. I don’t regret ditching,” Ray says, and he must know what Nate is thinking because his foot nudges Nate’s under the table.

 

Nate isn’t going to say anything. He’s not so tactless he would bring up something like that from ten years ago just when Ray’s starting to have a good time.

 

Well.

 

Not in front of the  _ rest  _ of them. 

 

“So he was on the debate team too?” he murmurs low into Ray’s ear. The conversation has moved on and he’s on his way to get a refill.

 

Ray nods. He glances at Nate, away, then back with perceptive eyes. Ray pulls his head closer with a hand on the back of his neck to speak into his ear.

 

“Are you  _ jealous _ ?” Ray isn’t teasing this time but he sounds absolutely delighted.

 

Nate’s instinctive denial catches in his throat with his breath. 

 

Is he?

 

Nate knows what he’s like when he’s jealous. He’s not a jealous person by nature but he’s felt it before, like a mad bug itching under his skin that’s impossible to get rid of and impossible to forget. 

 

His lips brush the top of Ray’s ear when he whispers, “Of course not.” He presses a lingering kiss to Ray’s temple and straightens up. “Do you want more punch?”

 

Ray surrenders his empty cup in answer, the mirth not leaving his eyes. “And cookies.”

 

“Roger that.” As he walks away he hears Winnie’s voice.

 

“You guys look so happy together.”

 

“We are.”

 

The truth of the words fill every space in his mind. They may not be in a relationship but when they’re with each other Nate never wants to be anywhere else. He’s known that this whole time. He’s here because of it, because he would do anything for Ray, but what that might mean is something he’s never considered until this moment. 

 

“I’d go with the double chocolate if I were you. The other ones are actually raisin.”

 

The voice of the woman next to him breaks him from his thoughts. “Sorry?”

 

She smiles in amusement, the corners of her painted lips twisting up. “You’ve been staring at the cookies for a few minutes now.”

 

Nate shakes his head as if to banish all the confusing things he’s thinking. “Just lost in thought.” He picks a few double chocolate cookies and wraps them in a napkin for Ray.

 

“Happens to the best of us. You must have been in Mrs. Anderson’s class because I don’t remember you at all.”

 

“Actually I’m here with someone.” Someone who’s waiting for his cookies, probably tapping his foot impatiently. He wonders if Ray can see them from where he is, if he’s wondering what he and  _ Joanna  _ are talking about.

 

“Right, no name tag. Well in that case I won’t ask you to dance with me.”

 

Nate smiles politely as he refills the cups. He’s been hit on by both men and women and he has to give her credit for being confident yet graceful when things didn’t go according to her plan.

 

“Whoever she is, she’s lucky.”

 

He thinks about correcting the pronoun but in the end he just says, “I think I’m the lucky one.”

 

She smiles the kind of indulgent smile that’s reserved for sweet things, like adorable children and couples in love. “Have a good evening.”

 

“You too.” As Nate makes his way back to the table the music fades and the coordinator's voice carries over the microphone.

 

“Sorry to stop the party but Dylan is ready. Finally. Give it up for Dylan Walker everybody!”

 

Ray is the only one at the table who doesn’t clap. He accepts his drink from Nate and shoves a cookie into his mouth.

 

“Come on, let’s get closer.” Winnie pulls her husband onto the dance floor and the rest of them follow suit.

 

Isabella joins them on the dance floor. Her bun is loose on her head and she shuffles from foot to foot in her glittery heels. “Fuck it,” she says, and reaches down to take off her shoes. When she straightens, heels dangling in one hand, she takes a drink from Ray’s proffered cup with gratitude. 

 

“Hey, everybody!” The guy on stage says, and people cheer again. Some guy whoops loudly. “Yeah, you too, Kev. It’s good to see all your faces. Especially yours, Ms. Lane.” He puts his hand next to his ear like a phone and mouths  _ Call me  _ to someone in the crowd. A handful of people laugh but Nate is starting to see why Ray didn’t clap.

 

He leans closer to Ray. “I guess we know who slept with Ms. Lane.”

 

Ray grins but the humour doesn’t quite reach his eyes like it should.

 

“It’s been a long time, so I thought we could play a little game to see what everyone’s been doing. Are you up for that?”

 

_ “Wooooooo!”  _

 

“Okay, I’m going to say something and if you’ve done it raise your hand. I have a feeling we may be surprised.” He unfolds a piece of paper and glances at it before addressing the crowd. “Let’s start with an easy one. Who’s married now?”

 

About thirty people raise their hands, what looks like half of their graduating year from what Nate saw in the yearbook.

 

“Who’s been married the longest?” As he calls out years people lower their hands, and the last person lowers theirs after he reaches seven. “Seven years? I guess you’ll win the next question too. How many of you have kids?”

 

But the woman married for seven years only has one kid, while someone else has four. Nate has only known Ray’s class valedictorian for two minutes but he already feels a rush of satisfaction that the guy was wrong. Ray is smirking too.

 

He consults his list again. “Anyone write a book? No? Too ambitious for you losers.” Chuckles ripple through the crowd.

 

“Where’s your book?” Someone shouts.

 

“The world can’t handle me yet,” he says with a shrug. “My autobiography was rejected.”

 

“Yeah, right!”

 

“Tough crowd. You guys all turned into jackasses.” More laughter. “How about TV? Anyone been on TV?”

 

A few people raise their hands and he points at one of them. “What were you in, Sarah?”

 

“A news segment about—”

 

“Boring, how about a show? Has anyone been an extra or anything? No. Okay, how many of you guys got a degree?”

 

Hands raise.

 

“Overachievers, all of you. Next on the list is military. Anyone join up?”

 

Ray slowly puts up his hand. His is the only one in the air. 

 

“Person.” Dylan sounds surprised and he laughs to himself. Nate tenses, trying to ignore all of the heads turning their way. “They let  _ you  _ in the army?”

 

Ray’s face goes stone cold. It’s an expression Nate hopes to never see again. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Nothing, nothing, I just thought they didn’t let in fags.”

 

Nate sees nothing but blood red. Everything is slow motion through his haze of fury, the rushing in his ears, the thudding of his heart. He’s unaware of his own fists clenching, the cup in one hand folding in his grip. 

 

“Is that  _ fucking necessary _ ?”

 

If people were laughing they’re not now. The gym is dead quiet.

 

In an instant Nate realizes he was wrong. They didn’t just not give a fuck, the majority of them had actively hated Ray. His position in the social ladder of high school was at the bottom, the class punching bag. Someone to say, ‘Well I might be a fuck up but at least I’m not that Person kid.’ He understands this not when all eyes stare at him, but when his own turn to Ray. Ray who should be equally as outraged, who should be as furious as him, but instead he looks resigned. Tired.

 

“Who are you, his boyfriend?”

 

“Grow up, Dylan.” Nate can hear in Winnie’s voice that it’s not the first time she’s stood up for her friend.

 

“Yeah, man, give it a rest,” Jake says, shaking his head.

 

“Relax, it was just a joke. Some people can't take a joke, right? How about the rest of you, any jokesters? Anyone ever done stand up comedy? I can raise my hand for that one…” 

 

Just like that Ray is out of the limelight.  Twenty seconds in the eye of the storm and then it’s over.

 

Isabella touches his hand and Nate sees that his cup is so squished the liquid is about to spill over the rim. It takes a monumental effort to loosen his grip.

 

Nate doesn’t hear anymore questions, anymore jokes. Hands rise and fall but his only focus is the man next to him. Seeing Ray’s normally expressive features so blank is worrying and all Nate wants to do is shield him from the rest of the world, even if it is too late to protect him from the wannabe comedian on the makeshift stage who’s determined to make fun of everybody here. 

 

In the midst of laughter Ray turns and slips away, and Nate is about to follow him through the crowd when Isabella holds onto his wrist.

 

“Give him a minute. That’s what I always do.” Shame lowers her voice, sinking each word with its weight. Her brows are pinched with guilt.

 

“You didn’t know what he was going to say,” Nate says, though he suspects it won’t ease her mind much.

 

“I should have.” 

 

Nate doesn’t say anything else. He watches the second hand on his watch tick a full circle once, twice, three times until Isabella shoves his arm, as good a permission as any.

 

No one is lingering in the foyer so he goes outside, holding the door open for an older man heading back in. The last remains of the sun’s glow are fading on the horizon behind wisps of dark cloud but the air retains its blanket of warmth. Ray is sitting on a bench in front of the school with a cigarette in his mouth, a metre away from a  _ No Smoking  _ sign.

 

“I thought you quit.”

 

Ray pulls the cigarette from his lips and lets out a steady stream of smoke, watching Nate as he sits down. “So did I.”

 

“Where did you get the smoke?”

 

“Bummed it off Mr. Brenner. He’s cool. He ran the chess club.”

 

There’s something different about him that Nate can’t put his finger on until his eyes fall to Ray’s shirt. His name tag is gone. 

 

That one little detail says it all.

 

“Was he always such a dick?”

 

Ray doesn’t need to ask to know he’s not talking about his old teacher. “To me, yeah.”

 

Words catch in Nate’s throat trying to suffocate him from the inside out. Nothing he could say would express what he’s feeling for Ray right now, a mix of defiance and despondency and wonder that these people could look at Ray and see someone so worthless when he looks at Ray and sees everything.

 

“You shouldn’t have said that,” Ray says while Nate is still wading through everything he feels.

 

Nate frowns, not in confusion but disapproval. “Someone had to stand up for you.”

 

“Not really.” Ray taps the ashes off the cigarette and watches them fall. “I don’t give a fuck about what he said.”

 

“If that was true you wouldn’t be out here.”

 

“Christ, Nate,” he says, and the anger in his voice takes Nate by surprise. He’s looking directly at Nate for the first time since he sat down, fire in his eyes. “Do you really think I give a shit? I’ve heard worse than that, we’ve  _ both  _ heard worse than that. I’m best friends with  _ Brad _ , for fuck’s sake.”

 

Nate doesn’t point out that there’s a huge difference in being insulted by a friend as opposed to a bully. He understands what Ray’s saying in a way. He wasn’t furious because of what he said either, just that the guy had taken his digs at Ray in front of everybody like even ten years later he couldn’t let the opportunity to hurt Ray go by unrealized.

 

“So what is it?”

 

The fight in him deflates, shoulders dropping. He drops the butt of the cigarette and twists it into the pavement beneath his shoe. It takes him a while to answer but eventually he does. “It amazes me that they’re the same, that he’s the same as he was in high school. Three thousand six hundred and fifty days and they’re all the same.”

 

It is hard to believe but not everyone has done the things Ray has done in those ten years. Nate wonders if maybe Ray has changed so much that to him everyone else appears to have changed so little. 

 

“You don’t need these people, Ray. Least of all that motherfucker.” He wants to show Ray how much he means it, how much better off Ray would be never wasting a single thought on people like Dylan again. He wants to pull Ray close and press their lips together, substitute every bad memory Ray has of this place with something worthy of his focus. It would be easy out here in the dim twilight with no one around to see. 

 

“I know,” and he sounds like he really does. “What I don’t know is why you’re here. Why did you agree to this? It sucks. This isn’t how I expected tonight to go.”

 

“Maybe I wanted to spend some time with the light of my fucking life.” It’s far closer to the truth than what he should say, what he would have said earlier— _ I don’t know.  _ He’s hoping Ray will react to hearing his own words from earlier but his face remains passive in the orange glow of the streetlights. “And it hasn’t been all bad. You got to see your old friends.”

 

“Yeah. Can we be done with this lifetime movie moment now? I want to go home and get drunk.” 

 

“You have to do one thing for me first.”

 

“What?”

 

“I want to take silly pictures in the photo booth.”

 

“Nothing’s stopping you.”

 

Nate flicks his gaze in annoyance. “With  _ you _ .”

 

It takes a moment but his last ditch effort to make Ray smile is successful, dimples grudgingly forming on his face. Nate loves that smile, when it’s so strong he’s powerless to stop it, and every time he draws it out of Ray is an accomplishment bigger than the world itself.

 

“Okay.”

 

Thankfully when they re-enter the gym the valedictorian has shut up and the music is blasting again. It seems that the entire event suffers from false advertising—Nate hasn’t had the night of his life to say the least—and the photo booth is no exception to the rule. It’s hardly a booth like the ones found in malls, just a bored guy with a camera set-up and some props.

 

“You want silly glasses or something?” The photographer asks in monotone, gesturing lazily to the props. 

 

They each pick one and sit on the bench in front of a white backdrop. Ray is pressed to his side, their thighs touching from hip to knee, and after a moment’s hesitation he takes Nate’s hand between his own. 

 

“Thanks.” It must be some kind of record that he’s seen Ray look shy twice in one night.

 

“For what?”

 

“For being here.”

 

“You get three shots, three seconds between each shot. Ready?” At their nods he starts to count down. “Three… two… one.” 

 

The flash blinds Nate for a fraction of a second then the countdown starts again. He sticks his tongue out for the second shot then Ray pulls Nate in, reaches up, and kisses his cheek.

 

The flash goes off for the last time.

 

Nate’s heart is thundering in his chest. For the whole evening he’s been the one keeping up appearances with regards to physicality. He’s taken Ray’s hand, kissed Ray’s face, put his arms around Ray. This is the first time Ray has initiated anything, and for what? There’s no one waiting for the booth to be free and the photographer hardly gives them a second thought. The only explanation is that he wanted to and that’s what makes his pulse race.

 

Nate takes the pictures from the photographer with an absent, “Thanks,” his mind still on the kiss.

 

“We, uh, we should go find Izzy.”

 

They find her sitting at a table with a few others. She looks almost relieved when she sees them. “Time to go?” She eyes Ray like she’s trying to gauge how he’s feeling. 

 

“If you want to stay I can come back and get you later,” Nate offers.

 

“No, my feet are dying, let’s go.” But when she casts her eyes around the gym Nate thinks that’s not the only reason she wants to leave. She wiggles back into her heels and throws a wave to her old friends.

  
Ray says a quick goodbye to Winnie and Jake and then they’re heading out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it? Let me know!  
> Also I chose 1998 because in my mind Ray signed up for the Marines soon after high school so hopefully that makes sense.


	5. a home in your embrace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a tiny chapter full of fluff! This is just over 2k words which is why it has come up so fast.  
> I will have to set this story mostly aside until the end of the semester which is in two weeks, so the next update will probably be in the last week of April/first week of May. I'm gonna feel so bad leaving u guys hanging, but you know, real life is a thing. School sucks.  
> Chapter title from how you feel by druzy, which I discovered recently on spotify and I love it sooo much.  
> Anyways, enjoy!

 

The sky is black as onyx when they return to Carol’s house just after nine, the stars shining brighter than any Nate ever sees when he's home. Crickets chirp and small bugs hover around the dim lights on the porch.

 

“Back so soon?” Carol stands back to let them in. “I thought it went late.”

 

“Well,” Isabella says, collapsing on the bench, “we… it was… we saw who we wanted to see.”

 

And some people they didn’t, Nate thinks. Ray doesn’t disagree or agree as he pushes off his shoes, taking longer than it should from the alcohol already in his system.

 

“I’m never wearing these again,” Isabella claims as she takes off her heels. Her feet are red and lined. “Am I getting too old for heels or were they always this painful?”

 

"You're twenty eight." Carol sends an amused smile to her niece but when her eyes turn to Ray it fades. “Was it fun, sweetheart?” She keeps her tone light but she seems like she knows what the answer is going to be.

 

Ray shrugs. “You got any beer, Mama? We’re gonna stay up for a bit.”

 

That tells her all she needs to know. “No, but I can make you some sangria?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Yes please, Aunt C.”

 

She looks between the three of them and nods to herself. “I’ll make a pitcher. Nate, would you give me a hand?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Nate has rinsed three wine glasses and uncorked a bottle of wine before Carol finally speaks her mind. “So, how did it go? Really.” Ray and Isabella are outside on the deck so it’s just the two of them in the room.

 

Nate opens his mouth and closes it again as he slices an orange. He’s not sure what to tell her. It wasn’t awful but it wasn’t great either, and the one she’s worried about the most has been relatively quiet since they left.

 

She winces. “That bad?”

 

“Ray had fun.” He isn’t lying. Ray may not have said as much but his carefree smiles when he talked to his friends are ingrained in Nate’s memory. At some point during the event he managed to have a good time, even if it was all overshadowed by the end.

 

“But?” She prompts. She pours half the bottle of red wine into a plastic jug.

 

“Their class valedictorian said a few words and…” He tells her what happened, feeling a hint of anger rise just thinking about the moment.

 

Carol sighs, looking as defeated as her son had looked earlier. “Ray had a lot of… Well, let’s just say that Walker boy was always cruel. I can’t say I’m surprised. But Ray had people in his corner tonight so for that I’m thankful.” Her appreciative smile is something Nate doesn’t think he deserves.

 

“I think I’m in love with him.”

 

Nate doesn’t mean to say it. The words escape his mouth before he can think about reeling them in. He doesn’t know what makes him say it either except that Carol is so easy to talk to. Something about the motherly kindness in her face makes him feel like he could share anything with her in complete confidence.

 

Heat blooms on his cheeks and it must be obvious under the fluorescent light but he’s not afraid to let her see. He’s too focused on the feeling in his chest, like he’s soaring. This is the first time he’s admitted it to himself or anyone else and there’s a reckless freedom in finally putting a name on how he feels, finally recognizing that yes, this is how he feels.

 

Carol squeezes his hand and Nate finally meets her eyes. He wonders what she sees, what she makes of the man who just confessed to being in love with her only son.

 

“You should tell him.”

 

But what would Ray say?

 

Carol mixes the rest of the ingredients together and pours some in a glass for Nate. “Try it.”

 

Nate takes a drink, the sickly sweet punch bursting on his tongue. Ray is going to love it.

 

“What does it need?”

 

“Nothing, it’s just too sweet for me.” Nate sets the glass down. He might drop it with the way his hands are trembling. “What do you think he’d say?” A small part of him knows there’s a good chance Ray will reciprocate with every little moment of evidence that’s happened tonight but the rest of him is overcome with doubt, endless what ifs bouncing around his mind.

 

Carol taps a finger against the counter as she considers the question. If anyone knows the answer it’s her so the time it takes her to think makes him jittery. “I don’t think he’d say anything, as hard as it is to believe. I think he’d just kiss you.”

 

Nate takes a deep breath, staring down into the glass. He hopes she’s right.

 

This time yesterday he was sitting at home reading a book, trying not to notice all the empty spaces in his house, and now he’s imagining how easily Ray would fill all those spaces. Nate doesn’t feel like he’s fallen. He feels like he’s on an edge and he can’t step off not knowing what awaits him at the end of the fall.

 

He hasn’t felt like this in a long time.

 

If Brad was here he would be laughing and the thought is oddly comforting. He imagines it would sound the same as his laughter on the phone earlier, more at Nate and what he’s gotten himself into than with him. He would laugh and laugh and when he was done he’d offer his specialty of advice and judgement all in the same sentence.

 

Carol empties his glass into the sink and refills it to the brim with wine. “Drink.”

 

Nate downs half the glass.

 

“You seem overwhelmed so here’s what you’re going to do. Right now you are going to get drunk. You’re going to cheer Ray up and have a good time, and tomorrow you will tell my son how you feel. Got it?”

 

Nate refuses to think about what would happen if he disobeyed. He straightens his posture and performs a perfect salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

The corner of her mouth tilts into a smile. “Let’s bring these drinks outside.”

 

-

 

Nate lets his head fall onto the back of the swing and closes his eyes. He’s not the most drunk he’s ever been—that distinct honour goes to a Bravo Two get together last year because they love seeing him drunk—but he’s definitely past tipsy. He’s warm all over, especially where Ray is tucked under his arm dozing. They’ve been talking and laughing and if he’s being honest this is one of the best nights he’s had in awhile, despite all the shit of the reunion. He wouldn’t say it’s the night of his life but it’s been good.

 

Or maybe that’s just the wine talking.

 

“Can I tell you something?” Isabella is on her third glass, though she drank at the reunion so he has no idea how drunk she is or isn’t.

 

Nate hums.

 

“I dated Dylan in high school.”

 

Nate’s eyes fly open but even through his shock he realizes this explains her reactions at the reunion. “Does Ray know that?”

 

“Yeah, he knew at the time.” She trails a finger around the rim of her glass. “Did you look at the athletics page in the yearbook?”

 

Nate shakes his head, slow. “No.”

 

“I was head cheerleader. He was on the football team. It was inevitable.” She sees the look on Nate’s face and sighs. “I didn’ know he treated Ray like shit. Truss me, I ended it after I found out.”

 

Nate’s hold on Ray tightens instinctively. “How could you not know?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound as accusing as it comes out, and he feels bad the instant he sees her eyes water. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—Dylan doesn’t seem subtle.”

 

“No, you’re right. I didn’ see it. I just wanted my friends to like him. I didn’ understand why I wass popular an’ he wasn’t but you know what they say. Retrospeck is twenty twenty. Or something.” The slur in her voice is becoming more pronounced.

 

Nate pats her shoulder. She looks too heartbroken for someone who’s consumed so much sangria. “We all make mistakes.”

 

“But I’m doing the _same_ thing! I used to drag him with me to parties and I knew he hated it but I did it _again_. I dragged him to this reunion when he didn’ wanna go.” She sighs again, heavier this time, and leans on Nate so he has two matching heads of dark hair on each shoulder. “I just want him to be happy, ya know?”

 

“Yeah. Me too.”

 

Isabella rubs his stomach like he’s a cat. “I like you, Natie. You’re a good guy. No wonder Ray’s crazy about you.”

 

All the air in Nate’s lungs rushes out like he’s been punched in the chest. He looks at the head on his left shoulder, still breathing deep in sleep.

 

“Oh, shit. I wasn’ supposssed to—” She drifts off in the middle of her sentence and Nate is stuck with two sleeping Persons on his shoulders.

 

He doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to leave this moment. He wants to feel the elation running through him forever. The words loop over and over in his mind, and he desperately hopes he’ll remember them when he wakes up tomorrow morning.

 

_Ray’s crazy about you._

 

Tomorrow, he tells himself. Tomorrow he’s going to tell Ray, but for now he needs to get both of them to bed. He nudges them awake and they manage to stumble upstairs without breaking anything. Isabella yawns a good night wish at them and disappears into Ray’s old bedroom.

 

Nate flicks on the light of the guest bedroom at the end of the hall. Just like the rest of the eclectic house none of the furniture in the room matches and the windows are wide open. The bed is made and their bags sit on the end.

 

Ray makes his way to the mattress, his arms out for balance, and lies down slow like anything faster than a turtle’s pace will make him hurl. By the time Nate has his shirt undone Ray has only just started on his second button.

 

“Here, let me…”

 

“ _Duuuude._ ” Ray has a blissful grin on his face as he watches Nate’s hands work.

 

“What.”

 

“You’re so fucking _handsy_.”

 

The world swims for a moment and Nate blinks. “What?”

 

“You put on my shirt earlier and now you’re takin’ it off. Can’t believe I gotta share a bed with you. If I wake up to you groping my ass I’m divorcing you and taking the kids.”

 

Nate collapses into his side and hides his laughter in the crook of Ray’s neck. He's warm, too warm to be near without overheating, but Nate doesn’t move away.

 

“I’m kidding, you know. I like it. Love it. You bein’ all handsy. You can take on my shirt anytime, babydoll. Put off. No— _take off_...”

 

Nate wants to write his words down but he doesn’t have a pen. Or paper. He settles for tracing nonsense into the skin revealed by Ray’s half open shirt.

 

“ _You can brush my hair, undress me everywheeeerrrre_ ,” Ray warbles, and his arms circle Nate.

 

Nate thinks he might be melting into Ray.

 

“Nate. _Nate._ I’m drunk.”

 

“Sucks for you. I’m not.”

 

“Liar liar pants on fire—”

 

“I’m _not_.”

 

“—hanging from a tell phone wire.”

 

Nate lifts his head. “I. Am. Not. Drunk.” He punctuates each word with a gentle tap to Ray’s face, his forehead, then nose, lips, and chin. Then taps his lips again. His lips are nice. Ray goes cross-eyed tracking his finger. “But I am tired,” he yawns, “so let’s sleep.”

 

They brush their teeth and shuck the rest of their clothes, holding each other up the entire time. They get into bed in socks and underwear and Nate is almost asleep when Ray speaks.

 

“Nate?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Can I—can we—” He puts an arm over Nate. “Can we this?”

 

Nate rolls onto his side away from Ray but he takes Ray’s hand with him and holds it to his chest. Ray is a heater against his back.

 

“Handsy,” Nate mumbles, and he’s not sure if Ray’s laughter is real or something from a dream.

 

-

 

At some point in the night Nate gets up to use the bathroom. He’s forgotten about the bed’s other occupant until he comes back, his eyes adjusting once more to the darkness, and sees the shape of Ray sprawled on one side.

  
The longing hits him like a physical force. Only when he’s as close to Ray as he can be without touching his skin does he fall back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing them drunk. I love this chapter.  
> Do you love it as much as I do? Let me know! :)


	6. this feeling between me and you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK. WITH THE UPDATE YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR.  
> Thank you for your patience and I hope this chapter lives up to the anticipation. :)  
> chapter title from drove all night once again, because that song is like the song for this fic. idk   
> Enjoy, and if there are any grammar/spelling mistakes let me know.

 

Nate wakes up with Ray sleeping against his side. His arm is warm over Nate’s waist and his soft breaths on Nate’s skin send tingles down his spine. Somehow through the night they ended up entangled like this. He wonders how it started, or who initiated it. Who made the first move? Was it an arm around the other’s waist or feet twisting together to get warm? Maybe they fell into place next to each other, drunk and exhausted, with no discussion required. Either way he doesn’t want to move. Every cell in his body wants to remain static, to soak up the heat coming off Ray’s skin. He wants to wake up next to Ray tomorrow and every day after.

 

Ray jerks awake just as Nate is thinking about waking him up for breakfast. He lifts his head and blinks blearily at Nate. 

 

“Whah time is it? Why am I ‘wake?” He puts a hand to his head and winces. “Oh, that’s why, fuck.”

 

“Hangover?” Nate is lucky. He rarely gets hangovers unless he’s been drinking shots.

 

“Not the worst I’ve ever had.” He seems to realize he’s hovering over Nate so he rolls to his side of the bed and sits on the edge. A seed of disappointment settles in Nate’s chest. He was expecting  _ something  _ but not Ray turning away. 

 

Because he still has one objective to complete from Carol’s list. 

 

Ray checks the bird clock on the wall. “Shit. We should get going soon.” He rubs his eyes and heads for the door.

 

Nate sits up with a heaviness weighing on him that says he’s done something wrong. “Ray?”

 

“What.” He looks at the bed but not quite at Nate.

 

Nate doesn’t know what to say about the mess of confusion in his heart. Instead he says, “Put some clothes on.”

 

“Oh, right.”

 

Ray shoves on a t-shirt and jeans from his bag and leaves the room without another word.

 

Nate doesn’t follow. Has he read everything wrong? He can’t think of anything that would make Ray act like this except the way he woke up right next to Nate. But that doesn’t make any sense. They were physically close last night, both when Ray was drunk and when he wasn’t. 

 

Two spots of white paper on the floorboards catch his eye and he leans down to pick them up. They’re his copies of the pictures from the photo booth. He hadn’t looked at them much last night but now he can’t tear his eyes away. Not from the first shot of their wide smiles or the last one with the kiss on the cheek, but from the second picture. In it he’s sticking out his tongue but Ray isn’t looking at the camera. He’s looking at Nate. The smile from the first take lingers around his mouth and there’s something like wonder in his eyes. Or love.

 

Nate slaps the pictures face down on the night table and shakes his head. He feels as though any minute now he’s going to find himself plucking petals off a flower, chanting  _ he loves me, he loves me not  _ like a thirteen year old girl with a crush. He can do better than this. He can do better than wishing and wondering. 

 

That’s when he makes the decision. He’s going to tell Ray once they get home and hope for the best.

 

In the kitchen Ray is making pancakes and Isabella is taking mugs from a cupboard, their conversation cutting off as soon as Nate enters. 

 

“Morning, Nate. Coffee?”

 

“Please.”

 

Ray stays quiet throughout breakfast and Isabella looks between the two of them like she’s waiting for something to happen. Nothing does. 

 

They get ready to leave after breakfast, taking turns in the shower and packing their bags in a silence unfitting of such a bright summer day. Nate folds his clothes; Ray shoves his into his backpack in one go.

 

On his last glance around the room as they’re going out the door, Nate sees the pictures on the night stand.

 

“Oh, shit.”

 

“What?”

 

He picks them up and puts them in his bag as he walks back to the doorway. “The pictures. Can’t forget those.” He would be heartbroken if he left them behind. “You have yours?” They each received two copies.

 

“Yeah, they’re—I’ve got them.” Ray looks as if he’s about to say something else then decides against it.

 

Nate frowns. He’s never known Ray not to speak his mind and that heavy feeling in his chest renews. Before he can say anything Ray turns and continues down the hall.

 

Carol comes home when they’re putting on their shoes. She’s dressed up and singing gospel tunes under her breath. “Oh, good, I was hoping to say goodbye before you left. Nate, could I talk to you for a moment?” She drags him a few feet into the main hallway, making sure Ray is busy talking to Isabella before she speaks in a low tone. “Do you remember what I said last night?”

 

“Yes.” He doesn’t remember much afterwards and he wishes he did because Isabella keeps looking at him with a significance he doesn’t understand.

 

“Good.” The confidence in her voice alone makes it hard to believe that everything will turn out less than perfect. “You know, I knew you weren’t Ray’s boyfriend the moment I first saw you.”

 

“You did?” He recalls the disbelief on her face when Ray had corrected her assumption yesterday. There was no reason to believe her reaction wasn’t genuine.

 

“I didn’t know you were coming,” she clarifies. “That  _ was  _ a surprise. But Ray talks about you a lot, considering how little he talks about the Corps. And the way he looks at you…” She trails off, sounding almost wistful. “I knew you were the man he loves.”

 

Her words make him feel like he’s falling. “So why did you say…?”

 

The look in Carol’s eyes says she’s been dying to share this particular secret. “Well, I had hoped to get the ball rolling.” She glances towards Ray and back to Nate. “Look, I love my son, but he can be…” She struggles to find a word. “Just tell him. And he’d be upset if he knew I was saying any of this so don’t rat me out, okay?”

 

She gets that sly look on her face again and Nate has to smile. It seems he has a weakness for all the Persons, not just one. “Deal.”

 

She winks. “Better wipe that smile off your face or he’ll be suspicious.”

 

It’s difficult, but he manages.

 

They rejoin Ray and Isabella at the front door. Ray gets two last hugs from his family then to Nate’s surprise they embrace him too.

 

“I hope this won’t be our first and last meeting,” Isabella says. “Ganging up on Ray is way more fun with someone else, and you’re almost as good as Brad.”

 

Nate laughs but Ray just scoffs. “I’m telling him you said that.”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“I’d love to visit again,” Nate says, knowing better than to let them get started. Both Isabella and her aunt seem to understand what he means, that maybe the next time he visits he’ll be more than just Ray’s fake date. “Carol, thank you for your hospitality.”

 

“Anytime, Nate,” she says with a sincere smile.

 

They head out to the car with then they’re on the road again.

-

 

The drive home is quiet. 

 

Nate has come to think of talk as Ray’s default. It’s a theory confirmed through observation, not only of this weekend but throughout the entirety of their friendship. Ray talks when he’s happy. He goes on epic tirades when he’s frustrated. All the messy emotions in between are when he’s quiet.

 

Which is why it’s hard to gauge how he’s feeling right now. He’s more relaxed than he was this morning, humming along to the radio, but he doesn’t try to start a conversation. Sometimes he sings. Sometimes he nods his head along to the music or taps the steering wheel in time to the rhythm. The longest conversation they have is about food. 

 

“Do you want to stop for lunch soon?” Nate asks.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Burger King or McDonald’s?”

 

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugs, looking out the passenger window. “McDonald’s.”

 

That’s it. One of the few times they talk during the long drive. And it is a long drive. Nate thinks he notices more now than when they were headed to Missouri because he’s awake for the whole trip. They switch every two hours so he’s in the driver’s seat when they finally reach his townhouse. He pulls into the driveway behind his own car and cuts the engine.

 

He’s been gone for less than forty eight hours and everything is different. But it’s not the house. It’s him.

 

Nate’s heart beats faster. Now is the opportunity he’s been waiting for but his mind is blank and all of his carefully considered words have abandoned him.

 

“Thanks for coming with me.” Ray looks honest, and even offers Nate a small, grateful smile. His gold-rimmed sunglasses sit on top of his head, no longer needed in the fading light, and the barest hint of his dimples curve into his cheeks. 

 

“I’m glad I did.” Nate gets the feeling neither of them know what to say after the experience they shared.

 

Ray makes a noise like he doesn’t believe Nate one bit and he looks almost amused for a moment even as a slight frown creases between his eyes. 

 

“You owe me.”

 

“Yeah. Just let me know when you think of something.”

 

Nate already has.

 

When Ray gets out of the car Nate almost panics, thinking he’s missed his chance, then he remembers he’s still sitting in the driver’s seat. He gets out and gives Ray the keys but he doesn’t move out of the way.

 

“You gonna let me go home sometime today?”

 

“No, not yet.” He’s still trying to get his thoughts in order.

 

“Well, if you’re trying to kidnap me you’re not doing a very good job,” Ray jokes, but his face falls when Nate doesn’t react. “Nate—”

 

“Just—listen, Ray. Please.”

 

Ray nods and waits, feet spread apart in a stance reminiscent of parade rest but with his thumbs tucked into his pockets.

 

“Last night was…” No word could explain all of it so he picks one to describe how it felt being Ray’s boyfriend. “Easy.”

 

He wore the role as if it was second nature. It was no effort to take Ray’s hand, to kiss his cheek or to touch him. No effort to look happy because he was. 

 

Nate takes a deep breath, and he steps off that edge in his mind and falls.

 

“I want to try this for real.”

 

The words ring in his ears and it takes a moment for it to sink in. He said it.  _ Out loud _ . Now whichever way they go is up to Ray.  

 

It takes all his strength to meet Ray’s eyes.

 

They’re wide, his lips parted, and what looks like every hope Ray has ever had is unhindered on his face for Nate to see. All defenses down. “Me too.”

 

Every last nerve, every last fear in Nate fizzles into nothing and elation like he’s never felt before takes its place. He can’t stop the grin that takes control of his face. He pulls Ray into a fierce hug and Ray laughs next to his ear. 

 

“Damn, if I knew all it would take was a shitty reunion I would’ve invited you to the Christmas family dinner years ago.”

 

Nate laughs softly and leans his forehead on Ray’s, their noses bumping. Ray is wrapped around him, the hand not holding the keys clutching the back of his shirt, and Nate thinks of last night.

 

He thinks of the way they danced, slow and as close as they are right now. He thinks of the colours and lights moving over Ray. He thinks of Ray squeezing his hand in a desperate grip, breath against his lips in the most intimate exchange of air. He thinks of every feeling that surged through him, everything Ray made him feel, makes him feel, and closes the space between them.

 

This is what they missed out on last night.  _ This  _ is the kiss they almost had, soft and curious then passionate and yearning once they figure each other out. 

 

How long has Nate wanted this? How long has he  _ needed  _ this? To know that Ray kisses like he wants to dive into Nate, to know how fast Ray can make his heart race. Now that he knows he never wants this to end.

 

When they break apart for air something clatters on the pavement.

 

“Your sunglasses fell.”

 

Ray is dazed and red all the way out to his ears. Nate puts his hand on Ray’s face, rubbing a thumb over his cheek. He likes the look, likes that he was able to put it there. “What? Can you just kiss me again?”

 

Nate is already leaning in. After their second kiss, even longer than the first, he picks up the glasses.

 

“Why were you so quiet today?” he asks, giving him the glasses.

 

Ray holds him around the waist and lays his head on Nate’s shoulder. “Missed my voice, did you?” he teases. 

 

Nate kisses his head in lieu of a  _ yes _ . 

 

“Just wasn’t ready for it to be over. I couldn’t tell how you felt, if it was real or whatever.”

 

“Got the message?”

 

Nate can feel Ray’s hum in his chest. “Loud and clear.”

 

“Good, because I’ve decided how you can pay me back.”

 

Above them the streetlights turn on to combat the deepening sky and a shadow of them forms on the ground. 

 

“Yeah? How’s that?”

 

“Take me out on a date. Tomorrow.” 

 

Ray lifts his head up into the light to look at Nate. “I work late tomorrow.”

 

Anyone else might hear a no in his words but Nate knows Ray wants this as much as he does. “Twelve to eight, I know. After your shift swing by and pick me up. We can do whatever you want.”

 

Ray smiles the quiet happy kind that Nate loves. He wants to spend everyday putting that smile on Ray. “You really don’t want to wait until the weekend, do you.”

 

“No. If that’s okay.”

 

He stretches up to kiss Nate, and it feels like a promise. “It’s cool. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

Nate gets his bag from the car and after two last  _ wait, one more  _ kisses, he watches Ray drive until he’s out of sight.

 

When he goes inside the spaces in his home don’t feel daunting like they sometimes do. He’s starting something new and he has no idea where it will take him, but he knows it’ll be good.

 

Before he goes to bed that night, he cuts one of the photo strips into its individual pictures. He puts all three into the clear spot in his wallet, the second photo on the top. They fit perfectly. 

  
He’s never kept a picture of someone in his wallet before but it feels like a good time to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.  
> THE END.  
> ...  
> Just kidding. Of course you've seen the chapter count so yes, there will be an epilogue, though it may be a few weeks before that comes up because I am in the process of moving and it's hectic af.  
> feel free to scream at me in the comments, I would love to hear your thoughts.  
> also props to the song first kiss from the stranger things soundtrack for helping me write that kiss. it was hard.


	7. you and i beneath the skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!  
> Wait, what? What do you mean, 'it's May?' If it's May, then... why did I just write 2k words of christmas themed fluff? Oh well.  
> So my goal for this story was 20k and I'm so happy I achieved that. I'm pretty sure epilogues are supposed to be like one extra scene? Whatever, this is basically just an extra chapter, so enjoy!  
> Chapter title from Christmas song Above the Northern Lights by Mannheim Steamroller, which is so beautiful I listen to it year round idgaf, both the instrumental and the vocal versions.

 

“Ray.”

 

“Nghhhh.”

 

“Ray, get up.”

 

“Ugh.  _ Whyyyy _ .”

 

“We have to get going, come on.”

 

“But it's so  _ earrrly _ , it's like—fuck! It's  _ six thirty?  _ Who the fucking hell thought this was a good idea?”

 

“We did, babe. Two weeks ago.”

 

“Well then get the Doc and the Delorean ‘cause I need to go back in time and kick my own ass.”

 

“Need I remind you what time you dragged me out of bed to go to Missouri back in June?”

 

“That was… different.”

 

“How?”

 

“It was summer. And I was trying to get you to go with me. I figured it would be easier if you were tired.”

 

“The truth at last.”

 

“It worked, though, didn’ it?”

 

“I'm getting in the shower, Ray. If you get your ass out of bed in the next ten seconds and join me there might be a reward.”

 

“What kind of reward?”

 

“Come find out. Ten. Nine. Eight. Sev—”

 

“I'm up.”

 

-

 

Nate remembers to bring pillows this time. In an effort to avoid frantic last minute scrambling he got everything they might need for the drive to Nevada ready last night. There are blankets and pillows in the back seat of his car and extra gloves in the console. All the gifts for Ray’s young second cousins are in the trunk and the food he made for lunch is in the fridge ready to go in the cooler. His overnight bag is in the car and the bag Ray brought last night is zipped up by the bedroom door, so there’s no reason for him to be running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

 

“I thought you brought everything you needed last night,” Nate says, leaning against the doorframe as he watches Ray paw through the clothes in his closet. “What are you looking for?”

 

“I want to bring that dress shirt I left here a few weeks ago. You said you washed it, right?”

 

Nate steps inside and pushes the door closed to get at the shelves behind it. On the middle shelf is where he keeps everything Ray left at his place and forgot to bring home again. He’s surprised Ray hasn’t noticed all his things collected here considering how often he comes in to steal Nate’s sweaters. Which Nate says he minds but he doesn’t, not really, and Ray knows this because he can never keep his hands to himself when he sees Ray in his clothes.

 

One half of the shelf is taken by his clothes, clean and folded, and the other side has a belt, a travel mug and a few books. 

 

“Oh. That’s where my mug went.”

 

“Mhm. All the clothes are clean.” Nate kisses Ray’s temple and turns to leave. “I’m going to start the car. Hurry up.”

 

The Christmas family dinner, as Nate has been informed, normally happens the weekend before Christmas. Sometimes it changes to accommodate members of the family but it is a long standing tradition, hosted by either Carol or one of her siblings.

 

“Every year Grams forces us to watch the Charlie Brown Christmas special,” Ray had said two weeks ago after Carol called to invite them, “and someone spikes the eggnog. Usually it’s me but we had to start coordinating it a few years ago.”

 

“Why is that?” Nate had asked.

 

“One time me, Izzy, and my other cousin all spiked it. Grams got run over by a few different reindeers that year, namely tequila and vodka.”

 

Needless to say, Nate is looking forward to it.

 

A few minutes after Nate starts the engine, Ray comes bounding down the front steps. He shoves his bag in the back and settles in the passenger seat with a blanket and pillow.

 

“All locked up?” Three months ago, he gave Ray a key. It was one of those things where he thought it would be way too soon if they were a normal couple, but they’re not a normal couple. They didn’t meet for the first time in June and the trust they have runs deeper than in any relationship Nate has had before.

 

Ray thumbs up, hands covered by his bright green convertible gloves. “And I turned down the thermostat too.”

 

Huh. That’s the one thing Nate had forgotten to do. “Good. So we’re ready to rock?”

 

“And roll, baby.”

 

-

 

They’re at Texaco. It could be the same Texaco they stopped at in June. It probably  _ is  _ the same one but the only reason Nate isn’t having severe deja vu is the opposite weather. The sky is a pale winter grey and the air bites his cheeks as he fills up the tank.

 

What gives him deja vu, amongst other realizations, is Ray tossing a pack of Hershey's kisses onto his lap when he comes back. Dark chocolate ones.

 

“Oh,” Nate says, and he wants to slap himself in the face.

 

“What?” Ray pops the lid off his coffee and blows across the steaming liquid.

 

“Kisses _.  _ You bought me  _ kisses _ .”

 

Ray grins, slow and sweet and completely making fun of him. “Took you long enough. Weren’t you a recon marine? And not just any recon marine, an officer too.”

 

Nate deserves that. He’s an idiot.

 

“Oh, fuck off.”

 

-

 

For lunch they eat the food Nate prepared in the back seat of the car. They’re parked at a rest stop, curled in blankets, and afterwards they waste a good ten minutes of travel time kissing. It’s not the first time Nate has felt like a teenager with Ray, and it probably won’t be the last.

 

When they pull away for breath, Ray blurts out, “My apartment lease is up in January.”

 

It takes a moment for the words to register in Nate’s mind. Going from kissing to critical thinking in the span of a few seconds is not easy. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

 

Ray shrugs but his aim for casual falls flat and the nervousness in his eyes gives him away. “That depends on what you think I’m saying.”

 

“You’re suggesting we cohabitate.” The thought of living with Ray isn’t a new strange idea that Nate has never considered. He’s considered the shit out of it. For the last three months they’ve been spending as much time together as they have apart, and he’s beginning to think nothing could be better than sharing his life with Ray.

 

“Maybe.”

 

They’re at a standoff now. Ray’s eyes meet his then dart away then meet again, and Nate would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing Ray squirm just a bit. 

 

After a few moments Ray embarks on a one man mission to fill the silence. “I know it might be too soon and I should wait for you to offer but I wanted to ask before I renew for another year and—”

 

“You haven’t asked,” Nate points out, derailing Ray’s entire train of thought.

 

“What?”

 

“You haven’t actually asked me anything.” 

 

“It was implied,” Ray says, frustration showing on his face. Nate knows he’s being an asshole for teasing Ray when they’re discussing the next step in their relationship so he takes pity and gives Ray an out.

 

“Don’t dance around it. Just ask.”

 

Ray meets his eyes once more and his gaze doesn’t waver. “Can I move in with you?”

 

“Yes.” Nate doesn’t need to think about it. He’s thought about it so much he already has his answer. He already knows he wants this.

 

This is another one of those things that it might be too early for but Nate no longer gives a damn about social expectations. They’ve seen each other broken by the world and war and helped pick up the pieces after it was over. If they can find happiness in each other they should take it, seize it with every inch of their hearts, and fuck everyone else. He loves Ray, Ray loves him. It’s simple, really.

 

“See? Was that so hard?”

 

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

 

-

 

“Aww, Walt says Merry Christmas. To me and the LT. He’s flying south with his girl tomorrow.”

 

“Tell him I said thanks. I hope he has a good flight.”

 

“LT says thanks, Walt. We hope your flight is on time and free of screaming babies.”

 

Nate can hear Walt’s laughter, tinny through the speaker of Ray’s phone.

 

How everyone found out about their relationship was an accident, and entirely Nate’s fault. When a Fourth of July get together rolled around they had agreed not to tell just yet, but with a blood alcohol level of zero point too fucking much Nate had let the cat out of the bag. The only person who knew before he’d said, “Thanks, babe,” in front of half of Bravo two and three was Brad. Who had apparently given the mother of all eye rolls at the shocked faces. Nate doesn’t remember that part but he does remember catching Brad top up his glass more than once so it serves him right.

 

Walt is one of the few who were supportive from the start. Nate couldn’t care less that most of his former platoon thinks he’s lost his mind but it’s nice to have someone accept their relationship and not bring it up every time they get together. Walt has never said  _ You could do so much better, LT _ and he never will, and they’re both grateful for it.

 

“They could learn a little something from Walt,” Ray had once said, and Nate had to agree. Walt was the first to say he was happy for them and that meant a lot.

 

“Talk to you soon, Walt.” Ray hangs up and he’s quiet for a bit before saying, “We should invite Walt up to our place.”

 

_ Our place _ . Nate can’t help the smile and he wishes he could look at Ray but he’s focussed on the road.

 

“What’s that smile for?”

 

“You haven’t moved in yet and you’re already calling it our place.”

 

“I meant, you know, our neck of the woods.”

 

“Okay,” Nate agrees. “But you can call it our place if you want to.”

 

-

 

“Is that real mistletoe?”

 

“Yeah. She gets some every year.”

 

The exterior of Ray’s childhood home is covered in green, red and gold. Christmas garlands line the porch railings, pots of red flowers sit on the window sills, strings of light shine from the roof, and a sprig of mistletoe hangs above the front door.

 

The last time Nate stood on this porch, he wasn’t Ray’s boyfriend. Last time he was here he was in a tee shirt, sweating in June heat, and dreaming of everything that could be. It’s amazing to think of all that has changed. Now he’s bundled up against the chill and holding Ray’s gloved hand in his own, knowing he has everything he wanted. 

 

“Hey.”

 

Ray knocks on the door and turns to face Nate. “Hey.”

 

“I love you.” This isn’t the first time he’s said it but he still feels a little of that same thrill he felt the first time.

 

Ray smiles slow like he’s being lit up from the inside. His cheeks are pink from the cold, dimples on full display, and all Nate wants to do is kiss him. So he does. They’re in a relationship, he can do that now.

 

“I see you’re making use of that mistletoe,” someone says, and they pull apart to see the door open and Carol beaming at them. “Don’t worry, you’re not the first couple I’ve seen kissing on my doorstep. That’s what it’s there for, after all.”

 

“Hi, Mama. Merry Christmas.”

 

“Merry Christmas to you both. It’s good to see you again, Nate,” she says, and her eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.

 

“It’s good to be back,” Nate replies, with a smile of his own. He’s sure they’re thinking of the same things, of the conversations they had that Ray doesn’t know about. Maybe some day Nate will tell him about them.

 

“Come on in.”

 

They add their boots to the pile on the mat and the front closet is so full they have to hang their coats in the laundry room. The house is full of noise, talking and children screaming and Christmas music, and before they jump into the chaos, Ray gives him a kiss on the cheek.

  
“I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sappy af. Apparently I don't know how to end my stories any other way than sickening amounts of sap. I should work on that.  
> I'm thinking of maybe writing a few scenes from Brad's pov about their relationship sort of from this story and into the future, maybe, so if you're interested in that let me know. I also have a shit ton of other au ideas that I may write this summer so keep an eye out for that.  
> Thank you so much to everyone who read and commented and gave kudos and subscribed!! Seriously, all of you guys made writing this story worth it and gave me motivation so kudos to all of you! :)  
> Bye until next time!


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